Between The Lines
by pdljmpr6
Summary: A drabble/oneshot series based on lines from the show that reveal something previously unexplored about the characters. Line suggestions welcome. Genres and pairings will vary. Chapter 17- “In my world, you grow up. Fast. You have no choice."
1. Dinnertime

**Title**: Dinnertime  
**Word Count:** 987  
**Characters**: All  
**Genre**: General/Family  
**Pairings**: None  
**Line**: "We're family, Gibbs." - Abby, Season 4 Episode 'Leap of Faith'

Jenny didn't remember her father being a particularly religious man, but there was one scripture in Proverbs that he loved to recite and it had been permanently burned into her memory.

_There is a friend that sticketh closer than a brother._

Now, looking down at her top investigative team, she truly knew what those words meant.

The end of a long case had come earlier that day and the group had gathered in the Squad Room to finish their reports. Granted, they would have gotten it done a lot quicker having stuck to their own designated areas, but it certainly wouldn't have been as much fun.

Tony, Ziva and Gibbs all sat at their own desks. Ducky had commandeered a space opposite Gibbs so he could use the lamp, McGee was partitioned off to a small corner of Tony's desk and Abby was sharing Ziva's chair and her Chow Mein.

"Abby! What is wrong with yours?" Ziva snatched her take-out box from the reach of the young woman's chopsticks and Abby grinned.

"Yours is better Ziva now give it up!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"Are they always like this?" Ducky asked, his voice not really all that low as he leaned across the space toward his friend.

Gibbs rolled his eyes, "you ain't seen nothin' yet, Duck."

The older man chuckled and they both turned at the sound of Tony groaning, reluctantly handing McGee a five dollar bill, which the junior agent smugly pushed into his pocket. Their eyes swung back to the girls and saw Ziva pouting while Abby happily shoveled the rest of the chow mein in her mouth.

"Abbs," Gibbs sighed, raising an eyebrow.

"What?" she blinked at him innocently, "all I've had to eat today was five Caf-Pows. I'm starving."

"Abigail," Ducky exclaimed, "that's not healthy at all, my dear."

"I know that Ducky but there was literal truckloads of evidence down there for me to process and you know how Gibbs gets when we make him wait," she defended, fully aware she was talking about her boss as if he were not there, and receiving a glare for it, "I didn't have time for anything else."

Ducky turned a glare on Gibbs and he shrugged.

"We solved the case didn't we?"

"Yes, but not at the cost of the young lady's health I hope," he said disapprovingly and blew on his hot Egg Drop Soup, "next time you do well do bring her some actual food instead of all that caffeine, Jethro."

"I'll keep that in mind, Doctor."

"I don't know if that's such a good idea, Ducky," McGee said, his voice almost teasing and he gestured toward Abby with his drink, "you remember how she got the last time she decided to give up Caf-Pow."

Ziva shuddered, "I do not wish to go through that again."

Tony chuckled and then sobered at the look Abby gave him.

"Ah, I do indeed Timothy," then, after a thoughtful pause, "have I ever told you all about the time Jethro attempted to curb his own caffeine vice?"

He received four half shocked, half horrified looks.

"What would a Gibbs without his daily coffee fix be like?" Abby turned wide eyes to her left but Gibbs was pretending to ignore them all as he focused on cutting apart his sesame chicken.

"A scary Gibbs," McGee decided.

"A violent Gibbs," Tony rubbed the back of his head unconsciously, feeling the sting of head slaps not yet delivered, "So that's what happened to ex-wife number one."

Jenny tilted her head to one side as a balled up piece of paper suddenly appeared in Gibbs' hand and was launched across the Unit, expertly threaded between Ducky and McGee to hit Tony square in the forehead.

A riot of laughter awarded the action and she couldn't help but smile. In that moment Gibbs eyes turned up to meet hers and she dipped her chin once in acknowledgment, wanting him to know that 'yes, she had seen everything' and 'no, she wasn't going to comment'. His team, his rules.

At least, that's what she let them believe.

She felt Gibbs' eyes on her all the way down the stairs but she'd almost made it to their Unit before anyone else spotted her.

"Director." A chorus of voices rang out.

"Good evening everyone, how's dinner?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at the scattered take out boxes.

"Great. You hungry, ma'am?" McGee offered her an egg roll and she stepped forward to take it.

"I could eat."

"Well then do have a seat, Jennifer," Ducky said, standing to offer his own chair and then pulling one over from the spare desks, "I was just about to regale these young people with the tale of what happened when Jethro tried to quick caffeine, oh, would have been nearly ten years ago now."

Jen's eyes widened and she covered her mouth as a wide grin spread across her face. She swallowed, nodding, "Oh, Ducky, I'd almost forgotten about that." She turned to her former partner with a devious smile, and was rewarded with a glare, though there was no heat behind it.

"It's amazing anyone made it out of that one alive, Ducky," she spoke to the doctor but her eyes stayed on Gibbs. A few seconds later the glare was broken and a ghost of a smile crossed Gibbs face.

"I agree Director," he turned to his now rapt audience, "it was August of '98, we were in Spain following up on a lead we'd gotten linked to the death of a marine who was smuggling drugs in from the Santa Anna coast…"

**A/N**: Sooo...did you like? Want more? Lemme know!  
**Next Line**: "I used to spend the majority of my time on stage."


	2. Between the Lines

**Title: **Between the Lines  
**Word Count: **1,743  
**Characters: **Tony, Ziva  
**Genre: **Romance  
**Pairings: **Tony/Ziva  
**Line: "**I used to spend the majority of my time on stage." - Ziva, Season 3 Episode 'Ravenous'

It wasn't the kind of bar he typically frequented, but it was his buddy's last night in town and he'd allowed him to pick their evening destinations. This place had live entertainment instead of old power ballads blasting from a radio on the counter and here they served alcohol in glasses instead of by the bottle. He ordered a double.

"I'm telling you man, you're not gonna believe this chick. She's gorgeous and her voice is sexy as hell," Marvin tipped his glass of rum and coke toward Tony with a raised eyebrow, "I've been here three times already this week."

"Whatever you say Marv. I'm not as easily impressed as you are," Tony teased and sipped his scotch, "but at least nothing could be worse than that history museum we went to."

"It wasn't _that _bad," the other man protested, brushing curly locks that were too long for his age out of his eyes, "besides, the tour guide was hot. I got her digits if you want," the man offered casually.

Tony almost choked on his drink and grinned at the veiled jibe, "No no, you keep it. It's probably the first number you've gotten all year."

His friend laughed and Tony let his eyes drift around the crowd, a quiet group dressed in dark clothes and sipping vodka. They reminded Tony of the beatniks from all those late fifties movies his mother had liked.

Tony sat back, rolling the tension out of his neck. He gave his friend a hard time, but he didn't really mind driving him all over the city to visit all the touristy spots. It got his mind off things (like his failed non-relationship with a certain arms dealers' daughter) for a while and the easy camaraderie they had was a welcome change to the loaded meanings of unspoken words between himself and his partner.

"And now, please welcome to the stage, Miss Sophie Ranier."

His eyes swung over toward the voice in time to see the club manager leaving the spotlight.

"Oh, here she is," Marv's eyes lit up and he craned around to stare at the stage. Tony's eyes narrowed, recognizing the name and wondering, not for the first time, if he believed in coincidences.

The lights in the small club went down further over the audience, almost completely shrouding them in shadow and the live band began to play a soft melody, emphasis on the piano instrumental.

"_Time to tell me the truth. To burden your mouth for what you say. No pieces of paper in the way_..."

Tony tilted his head, that voice almost sounded familiar. The person singing was, at the moment, staying outside the circle of the spotlight, allowing the audience to sway with her voice instead of her body.

"_Cause I cant continue pretending to choose. The opposite sides on which we fall. The 'loving you later's if at all_."

The figure began to step forward and Tony found himself as transfixed as the rest, unable to blink lest he miss the unveiling of the mysterious woman that belonged to the husky voice.

And suddenly...she was there.

"_No right minds could wrong be this many times_."

He blinked. And then blinked again. It was her, it had to be. The same dark hair, the same smooth skin, though much more of it was exposed in that strappy, sparkly black dress than he was used to seeing.

"_My memory is cruel. I'm queen of attention to details. Defending intentions if he fails_."

He almost had the urge to laugh, and only stifled himself because the action would have been so raucously out of place in the heartsick moment of the song. Still, he couldn't help but find himself wondering where she hid her SIG in that dress, which left just about nothing to the imagination.

"_Until now, he told me her name. It sounded familiar in a way." _

And just as quickly as it was there, the urge to laugh was gone. Her eyes, the same dark eyes he knew, flickered and came to rest on him, though he was sure there wasn't any way she could've known he was there. After all, it wasn't the kind of place he usually frequented, and the audience sat in darkness. Still, he shifted in his seat, feeling as if she was seeing straight through him.

_"And I could have sworn I'd heard him say it ten thousand times_."

She always did.

"_If only I had been listening."_

He knew her, and yet, he didn't. There was something unfamiliar about the woman he saw on stage. The softness of her curves, the waves in her hair, the delicate fabric on her skin that hid the strength he knew to be hers. But her eyes, there was no mistaking those eyes.

He knew them in a way he didn't know his own.

"_Leave unsaid unspoken. Eyes wide shut, unopened. You and me, always between the lines_."

Flirting shamelessly with him from over the top of her computer.

"_I thought I was ready to bleed."_

Under raised eyebrows when she was surprised.

"_That we'd move from the shadows on the wall. And stand in the center of it all_."

Glaring daggers at him in the car.

"_Too late, two choices. To stay or to leave. Mine was so easy to uncover_."

Filled with sadness as they mourned the loss of a love they never quite knew.

"_He'd already left with the other_."

Suspicious. Confused. Uncertain. Laughing. He'd seen everything in those eyes.

"_So I've learned to listen through silence_".

Or so he'd thought.

"_I tell myself all the words he surely meant to say. I'll talk until the conversation doesn't stay on. Wait for me I'm almost ready. When he meant let go."_

She let those eyes fall shut and her voice soared with the melody and a shiver ran up Tony's spine, and he realized…he hadn't seen everything in those eyes.

He'd never seen _her_.

Until now.

"_Leave unsaid unspoken. Eyes wide shut unopened. You and me, be. You and me, always between the lines_."

There must have been applause, but if there was Tony didn't hear it. His head was still ringing with the sound of her voice. A voice he was sure he'd never heard before and it wasn't until Marvin reached across the table to tap his arm that he snapped back to reality.

"What?"

"I said, 'didn't I tell you she was great'?" He asked eagerly, practically bouncing in his chair.

"Oh, uh. Yeah. Yeah, you did," Tony mumbled, and then suddenly stood from the table, "I'll be right back."

He made a beeline for the stage door, ignoring his friend's protests and questions. When he arrived, he glanced quickly around. Seeing no one, he reached for the knob. It turned easily in his hand and he was glad. He'd left his picks in the car.

He barely opened the door and slipped backstage where it there was even darker than outside. He felt along the wall to keep himself upright as his eyes adjusted to the silence and he was aware of the music starting up again and a knew another singer had taken the stage. He felt a presence nearby and his spine stiffened involuntarily.

"Ziva?" He called out quietly.

There was a shift in the air and then a flicker of light across a row of sequins.

"Tony?"

He heard the sound of a safety clicking back into place and almost smiled. _Of course _his crazy ninja had found somewhere to hide her SIG in that dress.

"What are you doing here?"

He didn't answer right away and slender fingers wrapped around his forearm, pulling him through the darkness toward a small room even further back in the club. A dressing room. In the dim yellow light provided by a single lamp Tony spotted a wardrobe rack full of costumes, a large vanity and, folded neatly atop the single chair, were the clothes Ziva had worn to the office that day.

She shut the door, muting the sound of music coming from the stage, and turned toward him.

"I asked you a question, Tony," she asked, crossing her arms. There was a look in her eyes now that he recognized. Annoyance.

He finished his quick scan of the room and brought his eyes to hers, momentarily losing his train of thought upon seeing her up close. Even in this unflattering light she was stunning. How was it that he'd never noticed before?

"You never told me you sang," he said quietly. It wasn't an accusation, but Ziva dropped her eyes guiltily.

"You never asked."

"I'm asking now," he countered, taking a small step closer, "why didn't you tell me?"

She put her hands out to the side, "it just never came up, Tony, okay? And besides, what I do in my off time is _my _business," she finished defensively.

He almost smiled, it was so easy to get her riled up. Taking another step forward, he tilted his head so they were almost touching. Ziva raised her eyebrows but didn't back down.

"I wish you would have told me," he said and slowly, almost hesitantly, raised his hands to rest one on her shoulder and the other gently brushed along her cheekbone, "I would've liked to be here."

She tilted her head to one side, accidentally or on purpose he wasn't sure, pressing her cheek more fully into his palm, "and why is that, Tony?" she asked, looking up through long eyelashes.

He swallowed hard, her husky voice robbing him of breath and hesitated before answering.

"Ziva you…you're beautiful," he whispered, and her eyes widened, "I've always known you were attractive," he added, his voice briefly taking on some of the cockiness it always possessed, "but…out there…on stage, it's different. You let people _see _you when you're on stage," his voice dropped another octave until it was barely audible, "I want to see you."

It was Ziva who swallowed this time, her hands coming to rest on his hips and her eyes falling briefly to his mouth, "you want to see me?" she asked, sounding uncertain and excited at the idea of letting him.

Tony nodded, his head now within a breath of hers.

"In that case, I'll have to sing for you again sometime," she murmured, tilting up her chin so that her lips were so close to his she could feel the heat coming off them.

His smile was immediate and infectious, "I'd like that," and he dropped the remaining distance between them kissing her with force, curiosity and demanding all wrapped up in a single instant. Ziva responded in kind and then some, not liking to be outdone.

It was the first time Tony had seen her.

But it would not be the last.

**A/N:** So, how'd I do? Still In-character? I tried to keep it as IC as possible and I'd love to know what you thought since I'm not quite sure I succeeded. The song was 'Between the Lines' by Sara Barellies, and it seemed totally appropriate, not just cuz of the title, but the lyrics describe the Tony/Ziva/Jeanne love triangle to a tee, at least, I think so. Thanks to everyone for the reviews last chap!! I was totally overwhelmed at the amount I got. Much love to the anon reviewers and the lurkers!

**Next Line: **"They're your team now."


	3. Boss

**Title: '**Boss'  
**Word Count:** 2,443  
**Characters: **Tony, Abby, Ziva, McGee, the rest are mentioned.  
**Genre: **Drama, friendship with a dash of Angst  
**Pairings: **None  
**Line: "**They're your team now." - Gibbs, Season 3 Episode 'Hiatus 2'

It was late. All the overhead lights were out and the squad room all but deserted save a few lone, diligent agents who worked by the light of desk lamps.

Among them sat Tony, who watched McGee as he worked away at his computer, reaching out with one hand for his coffee and, upon finding the cup empty, tossed it in the trash. All without ever letting his eyes leave his screen or stopping the incessant tap-tap-tap of his computer keyboard.

It was long past midnight, the others had left hours ago and they hadn't eaten since lunch, but Tim didn't complain. Hell, Tony wasn't sure he even noticed.

"McGee."

"Yeah Boss?" he answered distractedly, his eyes still on his screen. Tony barely withheld a wince. Being called 'Boss' didn't give him nearly the satisfaction these days that it used to, but he was trying his best to get used to it. Would get used to it. He had no choice.

"Go home."

His eyes snapped up to Tony's.

"But I'm not finished running down all the BOLO responses?"

Tony closed his eyes briefly, but resisted the urge to rub his face, "Probie, there's a freeze on all of his accounts, a BOLO in every cop's hands from here to Sacramento and his photo is at every bus or train station and airport in the country. He's not going anywhere. At least, not tonight," he opened his eyes and looked at McGee, "I need you fresh and ready to go tomorrow if the call comes in. _Go home_."

After a moment's hesitation McGee nodded and began shutting down his computer and gathering his things.

"G'nite Tony," he muttered as he walked by and Tony nodded in response.

"See you tomorrow Tim."

Tony waited until McGee had disappeared inside the elevator before he started to shut down his computer for the night. He checked the parking lot to be sure Tim's car was gone as he silently made his way towards his own. He unlocked his car and got in just as his cell phone began to vibrate. He sighed.

"DiNozzo," he paused, "you're _where_?"

---

"David."

Ziva's eyes snapped up and they met the scowling face of her team leader.

"Tony, thank you for coming," she said humbly, pushing off the thin cot and coming to stand and look at him between the bars.

"Yeah, well, maybe instead of thanking me you can explain why I'm here."

Ziva took a deep breath, "it's kind of a long story."

"I've been awake for eighteen hours, Ziva. Shorten it."

She looked at him and raised an eyebrow, wondering if he was doing his 'Gibbs' again, but decided, in the end, it really didn't matter.

"I was pulled over for a minor traffic violation, asked to get out of the car because I did not have my license on me and arrested for assaulting an officer."

"Ziva!"

"I did not realize it was 'no left turn' and I also did not realize there were officers nearby," she defended weakly, knowing she really did not have a foot to stand on.

"And assaulting them?"

She shrugged, sounding a little less apologetic as she added, "I did not like the placement of his hands when he patted me down."

Tony sighed and closed his eyes, rolling his head from one shoulder to the other.

"Did you tell them you were NCIS?"

"They did not believe me."

Tony stared at her for a moment, wishing to communicate his displeasure at the entire situation, and Ziva had the grace to look remorseful. Finally he turned to go back out front, put on his best icy glare and approached the desk. He pulled out his badge and shoved it into the face of the officer sitting there.

"Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, NCIS. Naval Criminal Investigative Service. You've got one of my agents back there. I need you to let her out."

"I can't do that, sir."

"Sure you can. You pick up those keys, you take a short walk down the hallway, you unlock the cell and you let her out. Easy."

The man shook his head emphatically. "No sir, I really can't do that. The chief's out of town until Monday and I-"

"Look kid," Tony interrupted, allowing his temper to get the better of him, "your obviously new here, so I'm gonna give you a little hint. You don't make the cheif's 'good' side by alienating federal government agencies. Now I've got better things to do than stand here and argue with you over this. Okay? I have a UA marine to catch, a drug smuggling ring to break up and who knows how many murderers and terrorists to put behind bars in the meantime. Just issue her a ticket and let her be on her merry way."

He raised his eyebrows and leveled the man with a glare. The young officer folded within seconds and turned to do as he was told. Tony watched him go, thinking absently to himself that that was a bit easier than he expected and a lot easier than it used to be.

"Thank you, Tony." Ziva said, pulling on her coat as they walked toward his car.

"Don't thank me yet, Zeevah," he unlocked the doors and started to climb in, "you're starting drivers' Ed classes tomorrow."

"What? Tony, no."

"Ziva, you were driving without a license, which is illegal. You made an _illegal _left turn and you assaulted a traffic cop!"

"Well I don't know what that last part has to do with-"

He turned to glare at her and raised an eyebrow.

Ziva's mouth dropped open, "But Tony-"

"Not gonna help," he muttered, and turned the car on.

She stopped, "what won't?"

"Arguing."

Ziva stared at him for several minutes before finally crossing her arms and looking out the window, pouting. She didn't speak for the rest of the drive and responded to his 'see you tomorrow' with a slammed door.

---

Tony walked into his apartment, took off his coat and dropped his bag on the floor, feeling the weight of the day heavily on his shoulders. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted an uneven black lump on his couch that hadn't been there when he left that morning. Resting his hand on the weapon strapped to his hip, he silently moved further into the room. When he saw the black lump had pigtails, uneven though they were, he relaxed and dropped his hand.

"Abby?" He said quietly, coming to stand at the end of the couch. She was stretched out across it, her clothes twisted and riding up, her shoes and coat in a pile on the floor.

Upon hearing his voice Abby sat straight up, just barely catching herself before she tumbled onto the floor.

She stared blankly ahead and blinked, narrowing her eyes in confusion.

"Where am I?" she slurred.

Tony raised his eyebrows. She was drunk. Not that he could blame her. He'd had the urge to do the same more than once over the past month.

"My apartment, Abs," he carefully sat down beside her when she drew her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around her knees, "any particular reason for that?"

Abby was quiet for a moment and refusing to look at him.

"I was at a club," she said, her voice low, "was drinking."

Tony nodded, "yeah. I got that."

Abby sniffed and Tony tilted his head and frowned, realizing she'd been crying.

"Abbs?"

She inhaled sharply and looked at him, red-eyed and looking more lost than he'd ever known her to be, "I always go to Gibbs after I leave my friends so he can give me a ride home when I'm ready," she began, tears flooding her voice, "but when I got there the door was locked. Tony his door is _never _locked."

Tony's face softened as he realized that for someone like Abby, who believed in signs and fate, a locked door could mean so much _more _than just a door that could not be opened. Especially if it was Gibbs' door.

"Why was his door locked, Tony?"

Unable to provide her with a satisfying answer, he just shook his head and opened his arms and Abby threw herself onto him, wrapping him tightly in a hug. He rubbed her back while the alcohol and misery-induced tears ran their course.

---

He'd been driving for almost an hour. After dropping Abby off at her apartment and assuring himself she would be alright at home for the night, he hadn't immediately gone back to his place.

He'd driven past McGee's apartment to be sure his car was there and saw the light was still on in the window. He also drove over to Ziva's house but didn't stay long, upon seeing a car he didn't recognize parked in the driveway beside her mini cooper, and unsure of how he felt about that.

So he'd been driving aimlessly for nearly an hour and, though he was beyond tired, he had no desire to sleep.

He wasn't sure what brought him to such a familiar street, what possessed him to park in front of such a familiar house, but he did.

He used the key he'd been given to get in.

Tony found himself in the basement a few minutes later, pacing around the unfinished boat, the scent of sawdust and bourbon still lingering on the air. He had been here before. Not as often as Ducky or Abby or Director Sheppard, but sometimes. When the case had been hard and he didn't have the energy it took to charm a woman into his bed, sometimes he came and sat on the last basement and watched Gibbs work on the boat. There was never much conversation, but something in the rhythmic sanding always calmed him and he'd inevitably end up putting aside his bear and picking up his own sanding block to help out for a while.

He came to a stop by the workbench and stared down at the hand tools strewn about across it. The whole place looked like Gibbs had only left a few hours ago, instead of a few weeks.

He shrugged out of his coat, draped it on a stool, picked up a discarded piece of sandpaper and approached the boat to begin sanding, careful to go with the grain. It wasn't long before he fell into a rhythm and his mind began to wander and was unsurprised when his thoughts settled only briefly on who would play in the NBA all-star game and what the weather would be like tomorrow and instead moved on to be thoughts on the team. His team.

First it was McGee. If forced to admit it, and sometimes he almost did, he'd say McGee had slipped rather easily into the role of Senior Field Agent. The kid had grown a lot in three years and was shaping up well. But he still had a lot to learn and Tony wondered more often than he liked to admit if he was ready for this job that had so literally fallen into his lap.

Then he thought of Ziva and shook his head with a smile. She was the one acting most normal these days. Always screwing up her colloquialisms and trying to make suspect-shaped holes in the walls. But sometimes he would catch her looking longingly toward the stairs to MTAC and he just knew when she saw him at the top instead of Gibbs there was a flicker of disappointment in her eyes.

Thinking of Abby made him sigh, and something in his heart shift uncomfortably. She always hid the Gibbs screen saver she had on her computers when he came to the lab, and without fail would flash him her sunshine grin when he brought her caf-pow! But he knew what she wasn't saying. She made a point to tell him once a day how much she appreciated him and what a good job he was doing, and he only loved her more for it. But still. He knew what she was thinking. Knew who she would have traded him in for in a second if given the chance.

Ducky and Palmer were easier to deal with. He only saw them at scenes or when he had a reason to go down to autopsy. Ducky, of course, never said anything to make him feel inferior but, again, Tony wasn't an idiot and he was trained to listen to what people didn't say. Surprisingly for Ducky, that was a lot.

Then there was Jenny. He'd always been unsure of her relationship with his 'Boss'. At least, their current relationship. He'd sometimes wondered about the conversations they had in her office when Gibbs would disappear upstairs. Now he knew. He was part of those conversations - arguments- almost everyday now. He didn't always come out on top, sometimes he wasn't sure anyone did, but sometimes when he would storm out of her office after one of their 'discussions', he saw a glimmer of nostalgia in her eyes that always caught him off guard.

Still, he was trying. They all were. There was a huge pink elephant in the Squad Room every time they were together. It was tough, and sometimes there was friction when he did things the 'Tony' way he liked instead of the 'Gibbs' way they were all used to. But t_hey were trying_. They were learning, all of them, relearning what it was to be a team. Tony still wanted Gibbs to come back, not as often as he used to, but he did. But he wasn't sure that would ever happen. And if it did, he wasn't sure how he would feel about it. But he did know one thing. If Gibbs had felt half as protective for his team as Tony did now, then there was no way in hell he would have left them in incapable hands. Tony's hands. It was the biggest compliment his boss had ever given him.

And it was strange to think that his respect for Gibbs had only grown in the past few month, not shrunk.

Only now did he realize what having your own team really meant. How thoroughly exhausting and utterly rewarding it was to be the one everyone ran to when they had a problem or a question. To be the one Abby looked to for praise, who McGee looked to for guidance. The one Ducky gave reports to and who Ziva followed without question. It was an immense responsibility. One Gibbs had shouldered without complaint, seemingly effortlessly. Tony both envied and admired him for it.

He stepped back from the boat and glanced at his watch, surprised that he'd been sanding for nearly an hour and that the burden that had been so heavy on his shoulders an hour ago was suddenly a lot easier to bear.

Tony put down the sandpaper and picked up his coat, shrugging it on. He paused at the top of the stairs and looked back down, almost laughing when realized that, of all the things Gibbs had taught him, this was by far the most unexpected lesson.

And now he needed to find an apartment with a basement.

Where he could build _his own_ boat.

**A/N**: I just wanted to explore what it really meant for them to be Tony's 'team' now. What did that imply off the record, you know? Anyway, this is what I came up with. I'm glad there are those that enjoyed the Tiva romance last chap, and I'd love to hear what you thought of this one as well. _**Gothgirl2k9** - Thanks for the suggestion, I'm thinking on it._ Hey, I have a couple of lines that I want to do a flashback chapter to explain them, like take us WAY back to character childhood, what do you guys think?

**Next Line**: "Have you ever had a child kidnapped, Agent Gibbs?"


	4. Missing

**Title**: Missing  
**Word Count:** 1589  
**Characters**: Gibbs  
**Genre**: Drama/Family  
**Pairings**: None  
**Line**: "Have you ever had a child kidnapped, Agent Gibbs?" "Kidnapped...no." - Gibbs, Season 4 Episode 'Witch Hunt'

He was startled awake, flinging his hand toward his bedside table fro the 9mm he kept in the drawer before his eyes were even open.

"Jethro."

He furrowed his brow as he pried his eyes open, "Shannon?"

He relaxed his grip on his weapon but didn't release it. It was his wife's voice, but she sounded strange. His sleep muddled mind would not allow him to identify what was off about it.

"What's the matter?"

"She's gone, Jethro. I can't find Kelly anywhere."

He sat straight up in bed, forgetting about the gun entirely. Now he knew what the strange quality of Shannon's voice was. Fear. He locked his eyes on hers for a moment. In the light of dawn they were wide and shiny with unshed tears.

Whipping the blankets off his legs, he pulled on the jeans and boots piled on the floor beside him.

"You checked her bedroom? The basement?" he grunted, unapologetic for his gruff tone.

"Yes, I checked the entire house," she snapped at him, while ringing her hands, "don't you think I thought of that already?"

He zipped up his jeans and turned toward her, grabbing her shoulders and ignoring the last question. He could apologize later.

"Call the Tyler's, see if she's with Maddie. If not, call the Jones' and your mother."

"How would she even get over there?"

"Just call them, Shannon," he realized how terse he sounded when she flinched and forced his voice to soften.

"Don't worry. I'm sure she's fine," he said, dropping a kiss on her lips. With that she relaxed slightly and nodded.

"Okay."

"If she's not with any of them, and she's not with me when I get back, we'll call the MPs." He said over his shoulder as he descended to the first floor, Shannon on his heals.

"But where are you going?"

He pulled on his green canvas jacket that sat by the door and flipped up the collar.

"To look for her."

---

"Kelly?" Gibbs called out. Once one crossed the hedges behind their home there was a large stand of trees where he and Kelly had been constructing a tree house whenever they could get a free weekend together. It was his one and only idea.

"Kelly, if you're out here you better answer me right now, young lady," he shouted, the grey clouds and naked trees seemingly mocking his anger-masked worry.

One agonizingly silent moment later, he heard a small voice ring out from the almost finished tree house above him.

"Go away!"

"Kelly. What are you doing up there?" he narrowed his eyes to glare at the bottom of the three house, "you're mother is worried sick. You know better than to run off like that." The only response he received was the sound of a body shifting and a small foot banging against wood.

"Kelly, answer me."

"Just go!"

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. His little girl sounded pissed.

Gibbs took a deep breath and started to climb, deciding that he should put aside his anger until he was sure she was alright and he'd found out why she'd run.

The 'tree house' was situated only about ten feet off the ground and had high walls all around the small foot platform. The only thing missing was the roof, so he hoped it held off raining for just a little while longer.

"Kelly," he said again once he was inside. The small girl was folded up in one corner of the tree house, wearing a blue winter coat, sparkly tennis shoes and jeans with embroidered butterflies on them.

He noticed her cheeks and nose were red and made a mental note to scold her later for forgetting her hat and gloves. It was winter in D.C. and, though there was currently no snow, it was far from balmy outside.

"Kelly," he reached out to brush her bangs off her forehead and she turned away, refusing to look at him. Well, that confirmed at least one suspicion.

She was pissed at _him. _

The child swiped quickly at her eyes and nose and then locked her hands around her knees again.

Instantly his anger was replaced with concern, "Kelly, honey, what's the matter? Are you hurt?" he asked, his eyes surveying her carefully for any sign of injury.

She pouted out her bottom lip slightly before informing him begrudgingly, "you lied."

He frowned, folding his legs Indian style and settling beside her, "about what?" he asked hesitantly, really hoping he wasn't about to have the 'Santa and Tooth Fairy' discussion.

"You said…you said you weren't leaving," she muttered, her small voice trembling.

Gibbs knew immediately that she was referring to the fact that his liberty ended today, and his gut twisted slightly in his gut. He'd thought she was acting strangely last night when he put her to bed, but he'd promised to have breakfast with her and Shannon before he left, hoping it would soften the blow.

He searched his memory for when he might have given his daughter the impression that he was home on more than just leave.

"Oh Kelly," he sighed, dropping his head back against the wall, "that's not what I meant."

"But that's what you said," she protested with the righteous indignation only a child could muster. Her twin braids flipped out as she whipped her head around to face him. He faced blue eyes wide with confusion and brimming with tears.

"I only meant I wasn't leaving for several weeks, Kelly. Because of Christmas."

"But I don't want you to go. You're always gone too _too _long and I miss you," tears that were in her voice started to stream down her cheeks and her chin began to tremble, "you're gonna miss my ballet recital."

Gibbs felt the devastation in her voice rip unexpectedly through his being and he inhaled sharply.

"Mommy's gonna videotape it for me-" he tried, though it sounded lame even to his own ears.

"It's not same," she cried, "every one else's daddies is gonna be there."

It wasn't true. He knew Lawrence Tyler, Maddie's father, was redeploying a few days after himself, along with several other fathers on base, but didn't say so. To an upset six-year-old, logic and fact rarely held much weight.

"Kelly-"

"I don't want you to go, Daddy," and all of a sudden he found her in his lap. He didn't hesitate in wrapping his arms around her small, shaking frame.

"I have to Kelly," he said guiltily, kissing her on the head.

She shook her head and took a ragged breath, "you could stay. You could hide in my room. I won't say anything. Then you won't have to go back to the Marines and you can stay with me."

He took another deep breath and closed his eyes to steady himself. If this kept up much longer he just might listen to her.

"Stay with me Daddy, _please_," she tightened her tiny fists in his jacket and he tightened his hold on her in return.

"Kelly I-" he paused, trying to think of a way to explain 'duty' to his confused and frightened daughter.

"I gave my word. You remember what that means?"

She sniffled pathetically, "that you have to do what you say you will?"

He nodded, "that's right. And I gave my word to the Marines that I'd be there today and ship out with the rest of my regiment. I can't go back on my word, honey. You understand?"

Reluctantly, she nodded.

"Okay," he pulled her shoulders back and she looked up at him, "you're still my best girl."

With a small smile she nodded again and he lifted her so she was standing and then descended the ladder before allowing her to follow him down.

They'd been walking hand in hand through the forest for almost a minute before either said anything again.

"Oh no," Kelly gasped.

"What?" Gibbs glanced down at her.

"I left so fast this morning I didn't get a chance to help Mommy make you pancakes," she said, the previous light he'd seen coming to her round face darkening again.

"I've got an idea," Gibbs smiled and swung her up onto his shoulders, causing the small girl to squeal with delight, "how would you like to go out to breakfast?"

"Mmm," she made a show of thinking hard on the subject, "can I choose where we go?"

"Of course."

"Okay then," she bounced happily and Gibbs gripped her hands tighter to keep her steady, "but you have to order chocolate chip pancakes."

He suppressed a roll of his eyes, well aware of the 'goodbye breakfast' tradition. One that really did not agree with his 'spam and eggs' palate.

"I wouldn't dream of doing otherwise."

They walked along in companionable silence for a few minutes more until they pushed through the hedges to their backyard. Gibbs swung Kelly down off his shoulders, but instead of allowing herself to be put down, she clung to his neck.

"Love you, Daddy."

Before he could respond, Shannon came bursting out the back door.

"Kelly!"

"Mommy!"

She wriggled and he set her down so she could tear across the yard to her mother. Shannon scooped her up into her arms and clung tightly to her, her eyes screwed shut and crying with relief.

"Love you too, Kelly."

**A/N**: There was just SO much in those two words when Gibbs said them on the show, I had to explore it. I've been overwhelmed by the response to this fic, didn't have a chance to respond to any reviews yet, but I will tonight. Thanks for reading!

**Next Line**: "Have you ever lied to someone you love?"


	5. Lying to My Love

**Title**: Lying to My Love**  
Word Count:** 1580**  
Characters**: Ziva  
**Genre**: Angst/General**  
Pairings**: Tiva**  
Line**: "Have you ever lied to someone you love?" - "Yes." - "Did they ever forgive you?" - "They never found out."- Tony and Ziva, Season 5 Episode 'Bury Your Dead'

* * *

To lie. To deceive with the intent of knowing something someone else does not.

She had lied often in the past. Been lied to even more. She merely chalks it up to job hazards, along with injury and death, and keeps going. But then there are some lies she does not accept so easily. When the lies come from someone she trusts, perhaps even loves, it always cuts deeper than she expects. And for that reason she makes it a point never to lie to those she cares for.

But there are exceptions to every rule. Even the ones we make for ourselves.

Ziva wakes at the same time every morning. At 0400 on the dot she is out of bed, stretching briefly and pulling on her running gear. It has always been that way, at least, as long as it has mattered. When she was a small child, when her mother was alive, she slept until 0630 at least, longer on weekends. But since losing momma and joining her father she is always up before dawn. Mossad accepts nothing less.

Four flights of stairs, two hills and 9 miles later, she drags herself back inside her apartment, sweaty, achy and starving. Grabbing an apple off the kitchen counter, she heads immediately for the bathroom. The warm water cascades around her and she sings along with the radio, finally starting to feel awake. She closes her eyes, her thoughts rolling as effortlessly through her head as the soap runs off her skin…

_The first time she'd lied to him they had been locked in a cargo container at a shipping port. 'Why are you still on top of me?' he'd asked her, and she could hear the strain in his voice.._

_She'd smiled, teased him, tempted him, like she always did but suddenly it wasn't just teasing anymore. It was real and she couldn't bring herself to move, praying that he would not see the genuine, honest desire in her eyes. Would not hear the want in her voice. Tony was very perceptive usually, especially when it came to women. So the fact that he didn't she attributed to her being a better actress than she thought and him still being slightly pissed that she'd fired her gun inside the 'metal box'…_

Ziva stands from her chair and stretches. For nearly two hours she's been following up on leads for their current case, calling 1-800 numbers and googling until her head feels ready to explode and she can't take another minute. She picks up a few files from the fax machine and walks them over to the shared copier on the other side of the room near the filing cabinets, wanting to stretch her legs. She punches in the number 'four' and waits while the machine carefully scans her six page document and prints out copies. All the while she can hear Tony taking out his boredom on McGee in the background…

_The next time had been when she 'accidentally' rammed the Venezuelan diplomat's car to try and keep him from leaving the country. In reality, that had been one of the few times she _hadn't _been lying. She really would have done anything, and not just because she didn't want another driving citation in her dossier. She wasn't embarrassed or ashamed of that fact, she'd long ago stopped blushing like a child over a matter as trivial as sex. Mostly she'd been lying when Gibbs had suddenly appeared nearby, barking at them, and she'd allowed her boots to walk her back over to her own desk and continue functioning as if everything was normal. Like it didn't cost her anything to pretend..._

Ziva sighs and sits back in her chair as the minute hand ticks over again on the clock. That makes thirty-six minutes of her life wasted on hold. And that's just today. There's no telling what bureaucratic nonsense she will have to put up with _tomorrow. _She taps her pen against her desk calendar repeatedly, taking comfort in the mindless action, until Tony shoots a rubber band at her from across the Unit. She jumps when it impacts her chest and then looks at him, shocked.

Lifting her pen, she points at him, "I will disembowel you with _this _inkpen."

"Not today, Ziva," Gibbs appears out of nowhere, something that she'd stopped being disturbed by after her third week at NCIS, and pauses briefly at his desk to gather his badge and gun, "a car with a marine inside just got blew up outside a sandwich shop in Norfolk."

'Thank you for holding, the Department of-'

Ziva slams the phone down onto it's cradle and swings her backpack up onto her shoulder, aware that she is going to have to call later and probably waste another half hour or more of her time on hold again when they get back. But, when duty calls…

_There was the time she'd watched a live feed in MTAC as Tony's '66 Mustang rounded corner after corner in the busy DC traffic, only to become a spectacular fireworks display a moment later. She'd ridden to the crime scene with the rest of the team, none daring to speak, all with their hearts in their throats. It was the first time she ever threw up at a crime scene. But that hadn't been a lie either. She couldn't have lied about anything in that moment. She'd thought the world was ending. It was like losing Tali or Yefet all over again. Only this time it was Tony and somehow, that was almost worse. _

_But she'd lied when he came back. When she saw the elevator doors open and he'd stepped out, only to be pushed back inside by Kort with his arm against his neck. She hadn't even thought about it, hadn't been able to think, as she drew her weapon and put Kort in her sights. The CIA operative left, and Tony turned to look at them wearing the same cock-sure smile he always wore and her heart started beating again. She'd lied to him when she simply smiled and clapped him twice on the shoulder and said she was 'glad to see him'. Lied when she contented herself with standing back while the others welcomed him back properly when all she'd really wanted to do was throw herself into his arms and never let go…_

She takes countless photos at the crime scene, carefully logging each bit of charred plastic and piece broken glass. Gibbs is interviewing witnesses with McGee while Ducky looks over what is left of the body. She knows Tony is standing off to one side out of her line of vision and in spite of herself, glances at him. He is, of course, sketching and there is an intense, concentrated look on his face. Almost no trace of the giant boy-man she knows and sometimes even thinks she…

_She'd sworn she wouldn't lie anymore. Not to him. It wasn't right, she couldn't do it. But then they'd gone on that black ops infiltration mission that turned out to be nothing more than a ploy to catch a mole and he'd been hit. There had never been any danger. But she hadn't known that at the time. Because at the time, in that moment, all she'd seen, all she knew, was that Tony had gone down. She'd watched him fall almost in slow motion and instinct had taken over. She deliberately provoked the enemy into engaging her because fighting was all she knew how to do. All she wanted to do. If she stopped, if she bent over to check his pulse she might not have found one, and she wasn't sure she could deal with losing him again. _

_That's a lie. _

_She was sure she couldn't._

Later that night, Ziva sits at her kitchen table cleaning her gun. The tv is on but the sound is low and she's not really listening to it. Cleaning her gun helps her clear her head and, like always, her thoughts drift to what Tony is doing right now. Probably with some woman, she decides, and pushes the polished magazine back into the handle with more force than is strictly necessary.

She tilts her head to look at the object. Heavy, solid in her hands. It is a weapon. A thing used only to inflict pain and, when used correctly, to kill. Never to heal, never to do anything other than destroy. It does not apologize for what it is. Does not try to become something it is not to appease it's owner. It is what it is, and those that touch it must either accept it, or let it go. Honest in the most puritanical sense.

She slams the weapon down onto the table in disgust and pushes up from her chair, seeing nothing of herself in the reflection on the barrel.

As she passes the television in the living room she flicks it off and continues to her bedroom where she strips away layer after layer of clothing until there is nothing left to put between herself and the sheets.

She's lied often. Been lied to even more. But lying to someone you love is not a job hazard. It is inexcusable. But, she hopes, it is not unforgivable. One day, she promises herself as she turns out the light, one day she will tell him the truth.

**A/N**: Okay, was it too sappy? Did it flow? Was she IC at all?? I never write Ziva so I'm a little insecure about this one. But I've always loved that exchange this 'line' came from and I always wondered who it was that she lied to, maybe it was Tony himself, you know? Anyway, if you loved it, great, if you hated it, sorry. I took a leap, this chaptory fought me every step of the way. lol. Thanks for reading, I'm totally loving all of the reviews!!

**Next Line**: "[My father] was too drunk to hurt anyone."


	6. Somebody's Noticing You Now

**Title**: Somebody's Noticing You Now  
**Word Count:** 2,886  
**Characters**: Tony, Gibbs  
**Genre**: Angst/Friendship  
**Pairings**: None  
**Line**: "[My Father] was too drunk to hurt anyone."- Tony, Season 3 Episode 'Chained'

* * *

Gibbs narrowed his eyes on Tony, who sat across from a particularly stoic Marine Captain, Daniel Folsem, in interrogation. He had his hands folded over the file, staring straight at the man, saying nothing. Gibbs couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Tony so still or so quiet. In fact, he was sure he never had before.

Tony was not your typical interrogator. He would prop his feet on the table, playing games on his phone, seemingly more interested in a high score than breaking the suspect across from him. It was sloppy, unorthodox and cocky. A bit too cocky for a Probie.

But Gibbs loved results, and that was exactly what Tony got.

But today Tony was showing none of his usual carefree mannerisms. Instead, he slowly leaned forward, lowering his voice to a deadly whisper that the mics in the observation room struggled to pick up.

"You don't look to broken up about your families' death," he began.

The Marine didn't respond.

"You're wife and ten year old daughter," Tony continued and Gibbs raised an eyebrow and sipped his coffee. It was strange, seeing DiNozzo so serious. But what was stranger was that it wasn't a farce, like the flaky frat boy persona he always employed whether at a crime scene or at his desk. DiNozzo never allowed the depth of his feeling to show through, not if he could help it.

But the man Gibbs saw before him had tension and fury radiating off him in waves.

This was no act.

"Both found dead on your living room floor," he pulled out a few pictures of the bodies at the crime scene from the file and set them side by side in front of Captain Folsem, "a single gunshot wound to both and you've got nothing to say?"

Tony's voice quivered slightly with barely controlled rage and he grit his teeth to try and ease some of the tension from his shoulders. Jumping across the table and introducing it to Folsem's face probably wasn't the best way to go about doing this.

"Marines learn to take adversity in stride, sir," he said, though his voice held none of the respect the words implied.

"Hey!" Tony exclaimed, slamming his fist down on the table and taking some pleasure from the surprised look in the Marine's eyes, "this isn't taking second place at a pie eating contest, okay? This is murder. You murdered your wife and daughter."

"I didn't kill Laura and Pearl," the man shouted back. Tony didn't even pause.

"You beat them on a regular basis and when they couldn't stay inside the lines you drew you decided to teach them a lesson, right? Deep six them where they could never disobey you again. Is that it?" he narrowed his eyes, "what happened Danny? Was dinner cold when you got home? Or maybe Pearl didn't get quite high enough of a score on that spelling test as you thought she should? Of course, maybe she could concentrate while at school if she wasn't worried about you beating the crap out of her when she got home."

At this Captain Folsem slammed both hands on the table, standing to lean menacingly across the table. Almost in the same moment Tony also moved to stand, having shot out of his chair with such force that it hit the wall behind him. He mimicked the other man's position, mere inches separating their faces.

"Just give me a reason, dirt bag," he growled, his eyes flashing.

A few seconds of thick tension had passed between them, each daring the other to make the first move, when Tony's ears twitched at the sound of the door opening.

"DiNozzo."

He didn't move, "yeah, boss?"

"A word."

Tony heard the door shut and knew he was meant to follow. Allowing his gaze to penetrate for one more moment, he straightened suddenly and turned to leave all in one motion.

Gibbs was leaning against the wall outside and he self consciously made to button his suit jacket as he waited for the man to speak, somewhat surprised by the way his hands were shaking.

If Gibbs noticed, and he'd never not, he didn't say.

"He didn't do it."

Tony's head whipped up to face him, "what?"

Gibbs handed him a file, "Abby just finished mapping bullet trajectories. The wife's were consistent with self inflicted shots."

"And the girl?"

Gibbs expression grew more grim, "looks like murder-suicide. He didn't do it."

"That's bullshit," Tony turned to pace away a few steps and then came back.

"Hey, you don't see me arguing," Gibbs raised his eyebrows and Tony stopped, suddenly noticing the anger and frustration he felt burning in his chest were reflected in the older man's thunderous blue eyes, "we got him for aggravated assault, for abuse and wrongful death. But we do _not _have Murder One."

Tony's fists subconsciously balled into fists again, crinkling the file in his left hand, and he began grinding his teeth. Their case against the father hadn't been airtight, but it was solid. With an alibi that was shaky at best and the previous record of suspected abuse it had made sense. As much as a senseless murder could make sense, anyway.

He took a slow breath, the image of black and purple bruises that marred the two bodies in autopsy, The evidence of previous breaks in their bones, flooding his memory.

"He may not have pulled the trigger boss…but he sure as hell did it."

Gibbs kept his face impassive, but reached up to squeeze DiNozzo's shoulder as he passed him, entering interrogation. Tony stared at the file in his hands with his back to the room while Gibbs cuffed the captain and roughly hauled him to his feet, shoving him toward the door.

Tony felt Blackadder come to stand beside him but didn't acknowledge her. Instead he watched as Gibbs quietly read Folsem his rights. The man had the nerve to walk upright and tall, as if he'd done nothing wrong. As if he hadn't driven that woman into taking the action she did.

"Did it make you feel like a man?"

The Marine pulled up short and Gibbs turned back, narrowing his eyes at Tony cautiously.

"What did you say to me?"

Tony was at Folsem's side in two strides, leaning into the man's face.

"I asked you if it made you feel like a man to beat on your wife and daughter. Did it make you feel strong to hear them cry?"

"DiNozzo," Gibbs warned, tightening his grip on the man's hands and arm.

"Go to hell," Folsem growled.

"Only if you save me a seat," Tony said, flashing a grin.

Gibbs felt the man's muscles tense under his fingers only a fraction of a second before he made his move. The Marine lunged at Tony, catching the side of his face with a head butt while throwing his weight behind it, wishing to ram his shoulder into his chest. Gibbs reacted instantly, spinning his shoulder through the turn, so that he missed Tony entirely and instead slammed into the wall.

Tony was knocked back by the impact but ignored the pain in his eye and leapt forward to meet the attack, stopping only because Gibbs was suddenly between them.

"Hey, the both of you knock it off!" he turned to Folsen, "you just added assaulting a federal officer to your list of charges you wanna go for more?" He shouted at the Marine, he paused a beat to listen while Folsem moaned at the pain caused from his up close introduction to the wall, and then, "Vivian."

Immediately the woman was standing beside him, taking the Marine by his arm and, after a quick glance at Tony and Gibbs, she led him the rest of the way down the hall toward the holding cells.

Without pause Gibbs turned to Tony, who was still had a dark look in his eye like he had a score to settle.

He stepped forward until they were nearly on top of one another, "And you, get your ass upstairs to finish your report and then go home. If you ever provoke a suspect like that again I'll have you _both _in cuffs. You got me?"

Tony's nostrils flared, the tension across his body increased and Gibbs got the distinct impression he had something more to say. But he didn't. Instead he gave a curt nod and turned away.

Gibbs wasn't surprised when he took the stairs instead of the elevator, sure the young man meant to burn off some of his remaining energy with the two flight trek to the Squad Room. He sighed and rubbed his face, caught somewhere between being worried about his agent's well-being and too pissed to care.

---

Gibbs had gone upstairs after processing Folsem to find Tony, but the younger Agent had already left, a neatly typed and completed Incident Report laying patiently on his desk.

He narrowed his eyes slightly at the empty desk across from his, an uncomfortable twinge in his gut. Something was going on with Tony and this case, and he knew his youngest agent would probably not be able to function properly until it was resolved. He grabbed his coat, left instructions for Vivian to finish up and go home, and then left for the night.

On his way out to his car he racked his brain for ideas of where to find Tony at this time of night, since he knew the man just well enough to know 'at home where he was supposed to be' was really at the bottom of the list of possibilities.

After driving around DC for close to twenty minutes, Gibbs spotted the familiar vintage Mustang parked out in front of a small, hole-in-the-wall bar. The kind of place where the bartender knows your name and the kind of drink you like and the game is always on but no one is watching.

"Thought I told you to go home," Gibbs said without preamble, sliding onto the barstool beside him.

Tony didn't look up, "yup," he lifted his glass and knocked back the rest of the amber contents.

"You get lost?" he asked as the bartender set a beer in front of him. Gibbs watched out of the corner of his eye the way Tony teetered a bit on his stool and knew that had not been his first drink.

"Nope," he said after swallowing, "detour." He lifted his hand to order another round and neither spoke while they waited for Tony's drink to be poured. He could feel Gibbs' gaze on him, though he was sure if he looked over he would see the other man staring straight ahead at the glasses behind the bar. Still, he tried to guess how he must look.

He'd been awake for nearly twenty hours, so there were probably bags under his eyes. His shirt was untucked and he couldn't for the life of him remember where his tie had gone and, judging by the way everything tilted when he moved, his eyes were probably bloodshot and there was no telling how he smelled.

Finally, unable to take the brunt of Gibbs' gaze anymore, imagined or not, he sighed, "you read my file?"

"Uh-huh," Gibbs said, unsure where the question was going and not giving anything away.

"What'd it say?"

He set the bottle on the counter and turned it around and around in his hands, "private schools. Jock. Sports scholarship to collage. Beat cop in Chicago and Nashville before making detective in Baltimore."

"That it?" he sounded surprised.

"There something else I should know?"

Tony went quiet again and finished his drink, nodding at the bartender for another, but Gibbs waved it away. He shot him an annoyed look, which Gibbs merely reflected back at him. He dropped his shoulders and looked away.

"My dad drank," he said quietly, scowling accusingly at the empty glass in his hands, "a lot."

Gibbs nodded and watched as Tony slumped further into his jacket, as if trying to disappear.

"He beat you?" It wasn't exactly a wild guess, based on the way Tony had lost it in interrogation earlier.

Tony winced at the blunt and straight forward question. No one else had ever cared enough to ask. He surprised Gibbs with his answer.

"No. Never." Tony's eyes glazed over and the grin that spread across his face seemed out of place with the gloom in his eyes and the darkness in his voice, "wanna know something' sick?"

Gibbs looked at him and Tony continued, a brittleness in his tone that Gibbs was sure he would have hidden if he'd been sober enough to notice.

"Some of m'friends…their dads were real pieces of work. They used to come to spend the night at m' place…too scared to stay at theirs…I-I was jealous of 'em," he glanced over at Gibbs for the first time, an unfamiliar look of vulnerable uncertainty on his face.

"Why?"

It wasn't asked in incredulity or judgment. More like he just wanted to understand.

"'Cause," he began in a voice almost too low to hear, "in order for somebody to try and kill you…they gotta know you're alive first, right?" he finished with a bitter smile and eyes that shone too bright in the dimly lit bar and then turned away quickly, as if ashamed of the unshed tears. He shrugged.

"I couldn't wait to get outta there…military school was the best thing that ever happen'd to me," he pushed his finger through the puddle of water that his glass left on the bar, "For the first time people were seein' me…even if it was just to scream at me 'cause I didn't make my bunk right," he trailed off with a broken chuckle and Gibbs looked away, allowing the young man some privacy.

He peeled the label on his bottle and tried to see DiNozzo with a buzz cut and running an obstacle course. He found it wasn't as hard to imagine as he thought. It actually made sense. It explained why Tony was such a good shot and so accustomed to taking orders when his happy-go-lucky personality seemed so at odds with any kind of hierarchy.

Gibbs sipped his drink to keep all the questions and curses that lingered on his tongue from slipping out, "feelin' sorry for yourself, DiNozzo?" he asked after a second. It was almost a challenge.

As he'd hoped, the corner of Tony's mouth quirked slightly, though the clouds remained firmly planted in his eyes, "no sir."

"Don't call me sir," Gibbs admonished, his tone gentle.

Tony didn't respond and Gibbs took it as evidence of what he already knew. It was time to get DiNozzo home.

He stood, pulled out his wallet and laid enough bills on the counter to cover both their drinks.

"C'mon DiNozzo," he said, reaching to help him off his stool.

"Can pay for m'own drinks, Boss," he mumbled, "can walk by m'self too."

"All evidence to the contrary," Gibbs grunted, swinging his arm up around his shoulder and threading another around his waist. He made sure the bartender would keep Tony's car till morning, and then walked him out to his own. Tony didn't seem to notice or care that he wasn't in his own vehicle, nor that he wasn't on his side of town. He just watched quietly as the city lights passed his window outside, occasionally wincing when they hit a bump.

He allowed Gibbs to help him out when they pulled into the driveway and then stumbled through the door of the darkened house, where Gibbs dropped him unceremoniously on the couch. He closed his eyes, feeling consciousness fade away as Gibbs pulled off his shoes and jacket and brought a trash bin up and set it by his head.

"Boss."

Gibbs stopped, the light from the moon fell across his face. His eyes were closed.

The sound had been so soft and Gibbs almost thought he imagined it, but he answered anyway, "yeah?"

"Stay?" He asked quietly, and his cheeks flushed. He wasn't too drunk to be embarrassed and he waited for the inevitable head slap. He cracked open one eye when it didn't come.

Gibbs couldn't help but grin somewhat exasperatedly. Who knew DiNozzo got clingy when drunk? He sighed and glanced around the room. He'd planned on going to work on his boat but, well, since the kid probably wouldn't remember anything in the morning anyway…

He reached for his shelf and picked up one of the cowboy novels he'd been meaning to read for the past few years.

"Just don't expect me to tuck you in, DiNozzo."

"Think y' already did, Boss," came a mumbled reply.

Gibbs snorted and settled into the recliner beside the couch and flipped on the lamp. In the soft yellow glow it cast around the room he caught a sleepy and alcohol saturated DiNozzo start to smile as he finally let go of the horrors of the day and allowed sleep to come.

* * *

**A/N: **Of course, I'm a huge fan of the father/son dynamic between Gibbs and Tony, so I thought this line had great implications for them. I actually am not completely happy with how it turned out, I think it's a little too long and something about the flow seems off, but overall I guess it's ok. Anyway, let me know what you thought, you're reviews have been absolutely fabulous! Thanks so much!!Next one will be much lighter after so many angsty chaps...

**Next Line**: "_She _will always be the favorite."


	7. Favorite

**Title**: Favorite  
**Word Count:** 1,662  
**Characters**: Abby, Gibbs  
**Genre**: Friendship  
**Pairings**: None (Gabby if you're looking for it, but _only _if you're looking)  
**Line**: "She will always be the favorite, Tony."- Ziva about Abby, Season 4 Episode 'Leap of Faith'

* * *

Special Agent Leroy Jethro 'don't call me 'sir', the second 'b' is for bastard' Gibbs didn't need anyone. Anything he needed done he could do for himself, and anything he couldn't, he could do without. Or so he liked to believe. But those that knew him well knew otherwise. Knew when to leave him be and let him work things through in his typical bourbon and boat building manner. And they knew when to intervene.

Ducky was good for a distracting story and a drinking companion. Tony for a joke and a reminder of his team's unyielding, uncompromising loyalty to him. Fornell for a cup of coffee and some wise ass remark to get them back to normal. And Abby…was just Abby.

"Are you scaring my agents?"

Gibbs slowly looked up from his computer screen and the look he shot at a looming Abby would have sent most hardened Marines running for the hills. Abby didn't flinch.

"_Your _agents?"

She ignored this and leaned her hands on his desk, her pigtails falling forward on either side of her head.

"Your office. Now," she narrowed her eyes slightly and pursed her lips, then stood and turned toward the rear elevator.

"This _is _my office," he countered in a tone that wasn't even remotely amused. Abby did a 180 in those precarious boots and looked at him with her hands on her hips.

"Not _this _office. The one that has ½ of NCIS taking the stairs every other day," she raised a challenging eyebrow.

Gibbs set his jaw, he was not in the mood. Not even for Abby. His voice went deathly quiet, "you're asking for it, Abbs," he warned.

She shrugged, unperturbed by the dark tone, "been doin' that for years," her eyes glittered mischievously, "besides, you can't slap what you can't reach, Gibbs." She waved from her spot at the other end of the squad room to illustrate her point and then turned to continue her way to the elevator. Punching the call button without looking back, she stepped inside and waited. True to form, just before the doors closed, Gibbs slipped inside.

Abby waited until they were en route before reaching over and flipping the emergency stop switch, "why are you being scary?" she asked, crossing her arms and getting right to the point, "and don't say you're not because right now your entire team is hiding in my lab. Ziva's comparing you to instructors she had in Mossad, Tony has apparently been fired twice already this morning and McGee's so scared you're going to follow through on your threat to shoot him that he's stuttering." She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows impatiently.

Gibbs stared at her for several moments, "I thought I was leading a team of Federal Agents not a girl scout troop," he grumbled mostly to himself, and reached past her to flip the switch again, setting the elevator in motion, "and you can tell my _team _that if they don't get their asses back up here in the next two minutes I'm going to _give them_ something to be scared of."

Abby frowned at his back as he stepped off the lift back on the squad room floor and just barely caught him muttering something along the lines of, 'first my damn coffee and now this'.

"Wait," she caught his elbow and pulled him into the alcove beside the MTAC stairs, "what about your coffee?"

Gibbs just stared at her, his expression somewhere between exasperated and uncomfortable. She furrowed her brow in concentration looking off to one side as she remembered the last few days in her mind. Gibbs had been irritable, snappy and grumpy, and that was in the bright spots. He'd even been short with her and Ducky, which he never did unless a killer was getting the best of them or…

Her eyes widened and she leaned forward, taking a long whiff of the lapels of his jacket.

She leaned back again, ignoring the strange look he was giving her.

"Gibbs," she squeaked, looking horrified, "did they discontinue Jamaican Blend?"

He cracked an unexpected smile and shook his head, "Abby-"

"Gibbs," she cut him off and dipped her chin, serious as she continued, "Abby's rule Number One: DO NOT lie to Abby."

They were locked in a silent battle of wills for a moment, but no one was more surprised than Abby when Gibbs was the first to look away.

"This is more serious than I thought," she said, her eyebrows now completely hidden under her bangs. Her voice flooded with sympathy then and she pulled him to her in a tight hug, "they _did _discontinue Jamaican Blend."

Gibbs remained stiff but Abby was insistent and after a moment he returned the embrace.

"I'm so so sorry Gibbs," she pulled back to look at him, this time looking a cross of determined and pissed that most would have sworn only Gibbs was capable of.

"I won't let this stand. I promise," she pulled away to march purposefully back toward the elevator.

"Hey Abbs," he said, unable to resist, "tell me again why you're not an agent?"

She grinned and stepped inside the lift, aware he was referring to the fact that she'd figure out in five minutes what had had his agents baffled all week, "it's too hard to run after suspects in platforms," she pointed at him as the doors started to close, "and don't worry, okay Gibbs? I'm going to fix this. In the mean time, be nice to my agents."

---

"Why the hell are you standing around talking about it? _Get to work_," Gibbs barked, and watched with less than his usual satisfaction when all three of his agents practically scampered back to their desks and made themselves look busy.

He closed his eyes briefly and bent over the paperwork on his desk. He'd tried to be 'nicer' to his team, per Abby's request (he was calling it that because it irritated him less than 'Abby's orders) but he'd be damned if it wasn't a hell of a lot harder than he'd thought it would be.

Gibbs didn't pay any attention when he heard the rear elevator doors ding open until he heard the familiar _clomp-clomp_ of Abby's boots on approach. He looked up to see her marching, literally marching, toward his desk, holding a ceramic mug of coffee triumphantly in the air. He knew it was one of her mugs, judging by the words 'Forensics Rock!' that were painted on the side. He stood at the end of the desk and handed it to him.

He took it with a raised eyebrow.

"Just drink it, Gibbs."

He sniffed it first. And when the familiar scent hit him he looked up at her with unmasked surprise.

Her grin brightened, "taste it," she insisted.

He did. And the first real grin to grace his face in a very very long time, appeared.

"How did you-?" He started, keeping his eyes on her as he took another sip.

"Well," she began, clasping her hands neatly in front of her, "I definitely did _not _use Major Mass Spec to analyze trace from a coffee cup you left in my lab three days ago to pinpoint the exact ingredient breakdown of your favorite brew," she paused, lowering her voice conspiratorially, "and if I did, the Major totally owed me one so it's okay."

Gibbs stared at her for several seconds and Tony winced, he'd gotten that look before. It was the one that revealed absolutely nothing, and left you wondering if you'd just done something really brilliant…or impossibly stupid.

He tilted his head. Abby was returning his impassiveness with an unreadable mask of her own.

Finally, at the same moment, secretive grins broke out on both their faces and Tony's mouth dropped and then quirked with a small smile of his own and Ziva narrowed her eyes, coming to stand beside him.

"What just happened?" she asked quietly, watching the exchange with interest.

"She called his bluff," he responded, equally as quiet, "and just how often do they take out Abby's trash? Once a month?"

In that moment Gibbs stood, kissing her on her left cheek.

Abby grinned again, "there's more where that came from. I made an entire pot. It's downstairs in the break room in a coffee pot plainly marked 'touch and die - LJG'. It'll be there when you need a fix…I mean, a refill." She finished, her smile almost turning cocky.

Gibbs just gave a slight shake of his head and leaned in to kiss the other cheek and then stepped around her to cut across the squad room and ascend the stairs to MTAC.

He stopped halfway and leaned over the railing.

"Hey Abby."

"Yes, Great One?" She looked up expectantly.

He dipped his chin, "you're my favorite," he gave her another half smile when she saluted smartly.

Feeling positively giddy, she turned to look at the rest of the team, who were all staring at her with wide-eyed, awestruck expressions and sighed.

"Well, my work here is done." She turned to leave but hadn't made it more than four steps before Tony's voice made her turn back.

"Hey Abbs," he stood up and she tilted her head at him, "you're _my _favorite too."

"Mine as well," Ziva returned to her desk, looking far more relaxed than she had before.

Tim nodded emphatically, finally letting out the breath he'd been holding for a week and a half, "And mine."

Abby's smile was renewed and she opened her arms to encompass them all and then brought her hands back to rest over her heart.

"Ditto," then she bobbled her head a bit, her grin still firmly in place, and spun around to leave. She punched the button to call the rear elevator and stepped inside.

Just before the doors shut, she looked upward and assured the silence, "it's good to be me."

* * *

**A/N: **I've always loved Abby, she's spunky, she's smart, and she's Gibbs' fave...aw, who am I kidding? I want to _be _Abby. lol. Hope you all enjoyed this lil bit. Absolutely ecstatic about the reviews I've been receiving, keep it up! They make my world go round! I've already gotten a couple of suggestions for lines, one of them I'm actively working on and another I'm still struggling with, but I wanted to come out and ask if anyone has a line they'd like to see done for McGee, I'd love to hear it. So far, all the lines i have in mind are for Gibbs, DiNozzo, Abby or Ziva, I have NO ideas for McGee. If you're cool with that, I'm cool to, but if you want some McG love, gimme a holler! Thanks!!

**A/N: **Oh! And I have to apologize, it was brought to my attention that the last line from Episode 'Chained' was from Season 2, not Season 3. I knew I shoulda checked before I posted!!

**Next Line**: "That's a nice suit, Boss. You didn't get married again, didja?"


	8. Sunday

**Title**: Sunday  
**Word Count:** 1,335  
**Characters**: Gibbs  
**Genre**: Angst  
**Pairings**: None  
**Line**: "That's a nice suit. You didn't get married again, didja?"- Tony to Gibbs, Season 3 Episode 'Deception'

* * *

Gibbs stood unmoving and silent as cemeteries seem to beg one to do. He hadn't said anything for the entire fifteen minutes that he'd been there, he didn't always. Sometimes, if he hadn't come by for quite some time and was feeling guilty, or needed to talk things out and Ducky was simply not an option, he would talk to her. But he didn't usually come here for that.

To be honest, he didn't come here that often. He preferred to leave the past in the past and let tomorrow worry about itself. Today was all that mattered.

But today, he needed to be here.

He wore his best suit, as he would have done if she were alive to see it, and had left the coffee in the car. He stared down at her name unblinkingly, the tears of loss long since cried away, but still burning somewhere inside him. He blinked as a cloud shifted overhead, bathing the entire, sprawling cemetery in cheerful sunlight.

"I thought I might find you here, Jethro."

He turned to look over his shoulder and smiled at the pale-faced, auburn-haired woman approaching. She too wore her Sunday best, a wrapped black dress and gold earrings that he recognized as a family heirloom.

Gibbs smiled and opened his arms to her when she was close enough, hugging her, "Sarah, how are you?"

The woman shrugged and stepped back looking at him with a smile that was mostly forced.

"I've had better days."

He nodded in understanding and he watched as her eyes slid hesitantly away from him and to Shannon's grave marker.

"Another twenty-sixth birthday, huh sis?" she said in a light tone that didn't fool anyone.

Gibbs nodded, his eyes glazed and faraway, "she never would admit to being any older."

Sarah shook her head, "nope. She didn't believe in growing older, Rule Number-"

"Nineteen," he finished gruffly, "I remember."

She turned to look at him, "I bet you remember all the rules."

Gibbs just smiled, so Sarah turned back to look at her sister's headstone and they lapsed into silence for a few more moments.

"Oh my God," Gibbs turned and watched as Sarah's eyes slipped over to the small headstone beside her sister's, "that's how old Kelly would've been this year, isn't it? Twenty-Six."

Gibbs took a deep breath and looked away again, shifting on his feet uncomfortably.

"October 16th."

She nodded and took a sharp breath, turning to stare up at the full treetops as tears rushed forward and trailed out the corner's of her eyes.

"God, Jethro," she whispered because it was all she could muster, "it still hurts. Like it was yesterday."

Gibbs pursed his lips but didn't respond. There was nothing he could say, he hadn't figured out what to say to himself yet. Still didn't know how to lessen that same near twenty-year-old hurt that weighed him down in the bed every morning. It was why he still preferred sleeping at the office or under his boat and have a sore back all day rather than risk waking up and finding it had all been a dream. Why his subsequent marriages had all fallen apart.

"C'mon," he reached for her trembling hand and clasped it with his own, "lets walk."

Sarah nodded and fell into step beside him, just as he'd known she would. Just as she always had before.

"For a long time I couldn't figure what she saw in you," she said after a few long minutes of walking.

"Yeah?" he turned to look down at her, partly curious, partly amused.

"Yeah," she shrugged and bumped him playfully with her shoulder, "you were this rough and tumble, loud-mouth Marine. Smart assed, cocky. I just didn't get what my sweet, soft-spoken older sister could see in a guy like you."

He nodded, remembering. Sarah certainly hadn't been the only one with doubts in the beginning. He remembered more than one shouted argument with his father over Shannon and their 'puppy love'.

"What changed?"

She was quiet for a while and he waited patiently for her to gather her thoughts.

"You were deployed for most of her pregnancy, so I moved in while I was interning at the hospital," she said, her body right beside him but her voice a thousand miles away, "I came home one night after my shift, Kelly woulda' been…I don't know, two, three months old, tops. I went to check on her before I went to bed. So I looked in, and there was this guy," she turned to smile at him.

Gibbs nodded and smiled distantly, "it was the first time I'd ever held her."

She squeezed his hand and continued, "Yeah, but you were supposed to be overseas for another week, I didn't know who it was. So, of course, my first instinct was to scream and hit the guy over the head with a baseball bat," she broke off as they both laughed quietly.

"Anyway, you turned before I could do anything and I saw you. You were looking down at that baby girl like…like she as everything. Like she was life. And love. And light," she shook her head with a wistful sigh, "it was in that moment when I saw what Shannon always saw in you. What she saw in everyone."

"The good."

"Mm-hm," Sarah nodded again and leaned her head against his shoulder as they emerged through a stand of trees to face a line of parked cars. She laughed out loud.

"Your yellow Challenger," she shook her head and walked away from him a bit to run her hand reverently over the hood, "you used to spend hours working on this thing. I didn't think you ever finished it." She turned to look at him questioningly.

Gibbs shrugged, "My dad needed a project," he approached her and Sarah nodded, good-naturedly allowing him to lead her over to her black sedan with a hand at her back.

"How are Tom and the boys?" He asked as she began digging through her purse for her keys.

"They're fine. Kyle and JD will be on Spring Break in a few weeks," she looked up at him with a raised eyebrow, "it wouldn't kill you to drop by, you know. Come have dinner or something?"

He smiled, "I'll try."

She rolled her eyes, not believing him, as she located her keys and unlocked the door to clime inside. He shut the door behind her and bent to look at her through the open window.

"Hey, if you ever need anything-"

"-all I have to do is call. I know," she smiled again and this time it reminded him so much of Shannon he caught his breath. She leaned up and planted a swift kiss on his cheek, "See you next year, Jethro."

He smiled and stood back as she put the car in reverse and watched her pull away. Satisfied she was out of sight, he started back toward his own car. He'd barely gone two feet when his phone began to vibrate in his pocket.

"Yeah, Gibbs."

"_Hey Boss, sorry to call you on a Sunday I'm sure you're busy with-"_

"Spit it out, DiNozzo."

"_We got a case. The guy said he tried to call you but you must have been out of the service area 'cause it went straight to voice-" _

He shut his phone and dropped down into his car. He paused for a moment, not turning the ignition, and looked out over the field of graves before him.

"Happy birthday, Shannon," he whispered aloud, unsure if she'd hear him.

When he turned the ignition and the car rumbled to life, he pointed it in the direction of NCIS and didn't look back.

* * *

**A/N: **Oh this was sad. But I've always wondered what Gibbs was doing that day wearing that suit (which looked sexy as hell by the way) and since he obviously DIDN'T get married, I thought I'd take a stab. Let me know what you thought, I'm still loving the reviews. Oh, and special thanks to TechnoMistress for the prompt for the next chap, finally, McGee gets some love!!

**Next Line**: "[I learned] not to go undercover with a doctor who's father is the world's biggest arms dealer."


	9. Apologies

**Title**: Apologies  
**Word Count:** 1,812  
**Characters**: McGee, Tony  
**Genre**: General, little bit of Drama  
**Pairings**: None  
**Line**: "[I learned] not to go undercover with a doctor who's father is the world's biggest arms dealer."- McGee to Tony, Season 6 Episode 'Love and War'

* * *

"What the hell, McGee!?"

McGee stopped abruptly only two feet into the lab and froze, "what?" His eyes darted to the right and left, trying to see what experiment he'd inadvertently wronged, or what substance he'd accidentally stepped in.

There didn't seem to be any. Instead, he saw Abby rapidly approaching, her short skirt flitting behind her as she came to stand right up in his face.

She looked pissed.

"How could you say that to Tony?"

McGee frowned, "say what to Tony?" he asked, trying to remember what exactly had gone on between himself and the senior field agent that day or, knowing Abby, any time that week.

"What you said at the crime scene. That Tony shouldn't give out love advice because he fell in love undercover. How could you say something like that to him?" She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, clearly waiting for an explanation, a damn good one.

Tim stared for a moment, almost disbelieving. Then, unexpectedly, he started to laugh.

"Seriously? After all the crap he's put me through over the past four years, I finally give a little back and he goes crying to you?" he shook his head, still chuckling softly at the very idea.

Abby's frown deepened and she abruptly turned and strode the other side of the room.

"What are you-"

"I'm putting distance between us so I don't do something I'll regret," she narrowed her eyes further and picked up a mercury thermometer to wave at him, "and for your information, he did _not _come crying to me. He's been in and out of my lab throughout the entire case being all giddy and fidgety and smiley."

"I can see how that would be cause for concern," McGee said flatly but was cut off again by Abby, who took a small step toward him.

"I can tell the difference, Tim," she exclaimed, "I know when Tony is really in a good mood and when he's trying too hard to seem like nothing's wrong. He wouldn't talk to me about it so I asked Ziva and found out what you said."

"Look, Abby, I don't get what's the big deal. Tony gives me a hard time nearly everyday."

"Yeah, he does. Because he thinks of you like a little brother, Tim, and he's trying to toughen up that soft, pink, MIT skin of yours. But he's never intentionally cruel," she took a deep breath and shook her head, turning to look at her computer again, "just go, okay? I love you, McGee, but I don't have to like your right now."

McGee drew back a little at this revelation and decided doing as she said probably be in his best interests.

He was fretting about Abby's accusation when he got back to the squad room.

"Alright, looks good. Go home," he heard Gibbs say as he rounded the corner from the rear elevator. He saw Tony flash his boss a grin and then go to his desk to start gathering his things. Ziva was always slower with her report because she was making sure she only used English words. McGee sat down at his desk with a sigh. He hadn't even started his yet because of the little impromptu detour to Abby's lab.

"Good night, Tony," Ziva said, not lifting her eyes.

"Night Ziva."

McGee waited, but the anticipated, 'see you tomorrow Probie' never came. Confused, he looked up to see the senior field agent heading for the elevator.

"Bye Tony," McGee called, standing up from his desk.

Tony didn't turn around, "g'nite Tim."

McGee frowned at the elevator doors after Tony disappeared inside them for several seconds, until he felt both Gibbs and Ziva's eyes on him. He looked down and blushed slightly at Gibbs' questioning raised eyebrow.

"I'll um…sorry boss," he sat down abruptly and opened a new document on his computer, but his mind was elsewhere as he began his report.

_He never calls me, Tim, _he thought, frowning internally. He suddenly realized that Abby had been right. This was serious.

He finished his report in record time, foregoing the third revision in the interest of time and placed it on Gibbs' desk, having a hard time keeping still while he waited for his Boss to give it a cursory look over before he would dismiss him.

Finally, Gibbs nodded and McGee hastily gathered his things and made a bee-line for the elevator, completely missing the approving look Gibbs sent at his back as he disappeared.

Three hours later found the junior agent pacing the length of his decidedly small apartment while he racked his brain for a way to fix this. It wasn't the first time he'd fallen victim to Footinmouth Syndrome. Unfortunately he was just as clueless now as he had been all the times before as to what to do.

He glanced briefly at his typewriter and sighed. He'd always been better with written word than with actual ones. Still, Tony wasn't a big reader at the best of times, and sending him an apology letter just seemed…lame, for lack of a more adult term.

Finally, seeing no other option, Tim set his teeth and grabbed his wallet and keys, hoping a brilliant plan would pop into his head before he made it to Tony's apartment.

---

Tony rolled his shoulders as he approached his door, muting the TV as he passed.

"McGee?" He frowned, after opening the door and gave the younger agent a wary look, "what are you doing here?"

McGee shifted on his feet, looking uncomfortable and held up both hands, a pizza balanced on one and a six-pack of beer in the other.

"Thought we could…hang?" he hadn't really meant for it to be a question but that's how it came out. Tony raised an eyebrow at him and then, after a moment of silent contemplation, nodded and opened the door a little further.

"The pizza can come in," he glanced down, "leave the Bud."

Tim didn't argue as he set the six pack he'd brought with him on the floor outside the door and stepped inside.

Tony went to the kitchen to put the pizza on the counter but left it unopened.

"Want a beer?" He asked with his head inside the refrigerator.

Tim frowned, "but you made me leave it outside."

"That, my dear Timothy," Tony straightened with two dark bottles in his hands. He reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out an actual bottle opener, popping both tops before putting it back and pushing it closed with his hip, "was not beer." He passed Tim on his way back into the living room and shoved the bottle into his chest, forcing the younger agent to either take it or wear it.

Tim looked down at the label, one he didn't recognize, it was from someplace in Australia. He wondered briefly where Tony had gotten it.

"So, to what to I owe this unexpected visit?" Tony asked lightly, leaning against the back of the couch and sipping his beer slowly.

Tim took a deep breath and set aside his bottle without drinking it.

"I came to talk to you Tony," he began, "about what I said before."

Tony paused briefly, mid sip. "You're gonna have to be more specific."

"At the crime scene," Tim said quietly, "about learning-"

"I remember," Tony stood and turned away suddenly, all traces of the carefree man he'd been were erased and he was intently studying the pattern of the bricks that made up the far wall, "it's no big deal anyway, Tim, it's not like I never give you a hard time," he said, his eyes drifting guiltily to the computer. McGee didn't notice.

"I know that Tony but…I just don't…it's different."

"How?" Tony challenged.

Tim frowned, "it just is."

"Oh c'mon McGee-"

"Just let me say this okay?" Tim snapped. Tony raised his eyebrows in surprise, but grew quiet.

"Look, I-I'm sorry about what I said," he sighed, wishing he could untie his tongue, if just for a moment, and stared at the floor as he gathered his thoughts, "I-I didn't mean it. Well, I mean, I did, but not the way-I…I didn't mean to say that…that I never learned anything from you. That's not it at all-I guess…sometimes I just get tired of you raggin' on me, but…then when I try to give it back it…it usually comes out wrong. I guess…it just seems so easy for you Tony, you're constantly pushing but you always know where the lines is, I'm not like that. I-I've always wanted to know, and I try and find it, but…" he sighed again, "I didn't mean to cross the line, Tony."

Finally, Tim dared look up and found Tony looking at him seriously.

"Apologies are a sign of weakness."

Tim gave a quick shake of his head, "not between friends."

Tony just nodded and then said mockingly, "So, what. We gonna hug now?"

McGee smiled, relieved that he seemed to be back to normal, "what are we? Girls?"

Tony nodded as if genuinely amused and a small smile was on his lips as he pointed with the hand not propping him up against the wall, "grab that beer before it gets warm." And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to have his junior co-worker standing in his living room, he sat down on the couch and unmuted the television on an old Marlon Brando movie. After a few minutes, Tim joined him.

They'd been watching for several minutes in silence, a body's width and then some between them on the couch, before Tony spoke, and when he did, it was so soft Tim almost missed it.

"Thanks, Probie."

McGee just smiled.

* * *

**A/N: **Okay so there is my McGee line (thank you very much TechnoMistress) and my first reader suggested line. Awesome. As soon as she said it I remembered hearing it during the episode and wincing like 'dang McGee, that was harsh.' So this is what came out. Glad people are still enjoying this (and by glad I mean ecstatic) and the next one will be up soon. Thanks again to everyone, reviewers and lurkers alike! The next one is a line I've been planning for some time now, but was also suggested in a review for the last chap.

**Next Line**: "Abby works alone for a reason."


	10. My Space

**Title**: My Space  
**Word Count:** 2,114  
**Characters**: Abby, Gibbs  
**Genre**: Drama  
**Pairings**: None  
**Line**: "Abby works alone for a reason." - "Which is?" - "Something you should ask her yourself."- Gibbs and Director Shepard, Season 3 Episode 'The Voyeur's Web'

* * *

Abby's hands were folded tight to her body, her heavily buckled black boots performing a perfect _clomp-clomp-de-clomp_ rhythm as she paced back and forth in front of Gibbs' desk.

"Abby…everything okay?" McGee asked hesitantly. His fingers had stopped their incessant typing, but were still splayed at ready across the keyboard.

Again, Abby didn't answer, her brow remaining deeply furrowed as she stared at the floor, her small, pale fingers clutching the sleeves of her sweatshirt to pull them down over her thumbs.

Kate entered the Squadroom after making a quick run to the vending machine and, upon seeing Abby, paused briefly at Tony's desk.

"What's with her?" She asked quietly, giving the younger woman a concerned look, which she did not notice.

Tony shook his head, returning his gaze to his computer as if to work, though his eyes repeatedly glanced back over to Abby and her agitated pacing.

"She's been acting strange since Director Morrow started that Lab Time-Share program," he dragged his eyes back to his computer, "Boss'll find out, I've just got to get some concrete results on that BOLO before he-"

"Any results on that BOLO yet, DiNozzo?"

As the old adage goes, 'speak of the Boss and he shall appear', Gibbs chose that moment to walk out of the second floor elevator. His coffee in one hand and his trench coat fluttering behind him, he entered the unit.

"Uh, nothing substantial Boss. The description of 'a medium white male, mid thirties driving a black SUV' is kicking back, as you might expect, a rather large number of hits."

Gibbs stood behind his desk and turned a blank but stern look on the younger agent.

"…which I will run down one by one until I find something. On it Boss."

"Kate?" Gibbs brought his coffee to his lips, listening to his team update him while staring at Abby, who'd stopped moving but was staring back evenly.

Kate, who'd taken the opportunity while Gibbs was talking to Tony, to slink back to her own desk, sat up straighter in her chair.

"I'm trying to get through to Captain Garcia's CO but I'm being stonewalled," she paused and glanced quickly at Gibbs out of the corner of her eye, "I'm calling them back now."

"McGee?"

"Still running down the Captain's phone and bank records, Boss. Nothing interesting so far."

Gibbs nodded once they'd all finished reporting.

"Is there something I can do for you, Abby? He asked, his tone uncharacteristically quiet, a sure sign he'd noticed her nervous fidgeting and subdued behavior.

Abby nodded, "I need to talk to you, Gibbs…"

His eyes narrowed minutely and he set his cup on his desk. "Okay." He tilted his head slightly to the left, waiting.

Abby took a deep breath; her low pigtails sliding across her shoulders as she glanced quickly back at McGee and then DiNozzo.

"Not here."

Gibbs body language changed then, minutely but significantly from interested and almost amused to tense and focused. He walked out of his desk alcove and back the way he'd come, beckoning Abby to follow with a single raised finger. Abby did, leaving McGee, DiNozzo and Kate to speculate on the sudden, private meeting between their boss and the quirky forensic tech.

"That was weird" McGee said, his lips pursed with concern.

"What do you think is wrong?" Kate asked, watching the elevator doors close.

"I don't know," Tony said, his voice uncharacteristically somber, "but it isn't good."

---

Gibbs and Abby stood in silence for a few seconds after the elevator doors shut. When they were between floors Gibbs reached over and flipped the small switch on the panel, bringing the lift to a sudden stop, which woke all the butterflies in Abby's stomach that she'd been trying to calm since early that morning when she'd decided to tell Gibbs.

"Okay, what's going on?" Gibbs asked, his voice still soft and at the same time, commanding.

Abby swallowed hard and pressed her arms tighter to herself. She opened her mouth, meaning to get directly to the point. But, as was usually the case when she was nervous, every thought that had occurred to her since 4 am that morning was what spilled out in one, long, breath.

"Um, okay, so I have a slight problem…maybe bigger than slight. Okay, definitely bigger, it's just that the last time I had a problem like this and I didn't tell you you got really upset and hindsight is 20/20 as they say and so I guess I probably should have told you sooner this time _and _last time but I just kept believing it would stop but it hasn't, it's gotten worse and I can't do it anymore Gibbs, I can't. And, um, I know you like for us to keep personal lives personal and stick to the job and leave everything else outside and everything but this one is kind of like personal and work trouble so I think it's ok even though you usually don't want to hear about Guy Trouble but this time it's kind of like...important and I-"

He was tracking her erratic movements with sharp blue eyes and he chose this moment to step forward, reaching out to stop her pacing with a gentle hand on her arm and his voice hardly above a whisper, he asked, "what kind of Guy trouble, Abs?"

"The scary kind." Abby said finally in a small voice, not looking at him.

Gibbs' face hardened and he was momentarily thankful that Abby was not looking at him, he would not have wanted her to think the anger was directed at her, "who?"

She swallowed hard, "It's Warren."

Gibbs' eyes narrowed, of the various and sorted people Abby came in contact with, he hadn't expected that.

"The Lab guy Metro sent over?"

Abby just nodded.

Gibbs took a deep breath and keep his voice steady, "when?"

"Um, it started about, um, three months ago," she shrugged slightly and dropped her eyes, "he sort of started saying things that, you know, gave me pause, but I just sort of brushed it off, I thought he was trying to be funny…"

She trailed off and was now steadfastly avoiding looking at him and Gibbs forced himself to remain calm and gently grasped her arms, urging her to continue.

She did, "then he sort of started to like…brush up against me and I thought it was an accident but…it was just happening way too often to be an accident. And then he just started coming kind of right out with it. I told him I wasn't interested, I even stopped wearing skirts and some of my lacier tops because of him," she said plaintively and Gibbs' head tilted slightly to one side. He'd thought he noticed something was different. She shook her head dismally, "it hasn't helped."

Gibbs took another tiny step forward, "Has he hurt you, Abby?"

Abby bit her lip, her eyes stinging with the implications of the question.

"I-I don't think he did it on purpose," she said weakly, the excuse sounding lame even to her own ears.

"Show me," he was whispering now but leaving no room for argument. She couldn't have denied him if she'd wanted to, and she did a little bit.

Swallowing hard again, she stepped back, unwinding her arms from around herself. She slowly raised them to him, pulling back her sleeves.

Gibbs looked down and clamped his teeth to keep in a flow of expletives. Abby's thin, pale arms were marred with reddish purple splotches. In the shapes of hands.

Unable to take his silence or his cold gaze on her flushed skin, she looked off to one side and rambled, filling the silence with her shaky and overly-upbeat voice.

"It happened last night. Everyone had gone…it was just us two," she paused when she thought she heard a low almost-growl from him and nodded, "I know, I shouldn't have been there with him alone but…I just got so caught up in the test I was doing. I was listening to music in my headphones, since he always turns it off when I play it on the stereo, and I didn't realize how late it had gotten. I turned to get a Petri dish from the counter and there he was…just…staring at me. Saying something. I tried to get away from him but I-I…I couldn't."

He stiffened considerably, and tried to quell the desire to shoot the next person he saw. His first impulse being that of jumping into action and making Gordon Warren eat his own scanning Microscope.

But another part of him, a paternal part that often lay dormant, would not allow him to do so, not yet.

"Abs," he waited, but she didn't look up, "Abby," he reached out and tipped her chin up to look at him, "you should have come to me sooner."

She nodded and looked down again when he dropped his hand, ashamed of the tears building behind her eyes, "I know. I wanted to, but…like I said I thought I was just being paranoid. Or that maybe I was…sending the wrong signals or something…I don't know. And Director Morrow was very clear when he said how important this Time Share thing with Metro is. He said I had to do everything in my power to make them feel welcome-"

"Not this, Abby," Gibbs cut in, regarding her seriously. She nodded and swiped quickly at her eyes.

"I know," she shrugged one shoulder and wrapped her arms back around herself, "I'm sorry."

The sound of her heartfelt, vulnerably apology tore at him and he almost couldn't get her into his arms fast enough. He cupped the back of her head, holding her to him as she wrapped her arms around his back and clung to him with full force. He was just as guilty, if not more so, as her.

Yes, she should have said something, but really, he should have known. Abby was one of his and he'd failed to protect her this time.

"No, Abbs," he whispered against her hair, "I'm sorry."

It wouldn't happen again.

---

Tony's eyes were glued to the elevator almost the entire time they were gone, despite his best efforts to stay focused on the task he'd been given.

"They've been gone a-" he didn't get a chance to finish, because at that moment the doors opened and Abby stepped out. Immediately Tony stood from his chair, causing both his other teammates to look up at him. He saw Abby's uncomfortable stance, the way she hugged herself protectively, but what troubled him most were her red, splotchy cheeks and glassy eyes.

"Boss?"

Gibbs poked his head out of the elevator and his suspicions were confirmed in the hard, cold, calculating look on Gibbs' face.

"With me, DiNozzo."

He didn't pause, didn't think twice. But he did glance briefly at McGee as he stepped away from his desk, his message silently, but clearly conveyed.

_Take care of her._

Tony joined Gibbs in the elevator and, taking his cue from Gibbs, turned to stare rigidly at the back of the mirrored doors.

"Gonna read me in, Boss?"

He could have sworn he heard Gibbs' teeth grinding.

"One of the lab guys has been harassing Abby."

Tony's head snapped over to him, "by harassing you mean..?"

Gibbs' pointed look was answer enough and suddenly Tony understood and shared Gibbs' fury. He also understood why Gibbs was having him tag alone as the elevator car slowly descended to the basement lab area. It was a classic interrogation technique, have someone else in the room for no other reason than to make sure you don't do something you might regret, aka, kill the sorry SOB.

Unfortunately, Tony wasn't sure he'd be much help this time. He didn't even have any of the details and he was ready to beat whoever it was to a pulp.

Suddenly a thought occurred to him, "one of our guys?" Tony frowned at the thought, there were only a few other lab technicians than Abby and most of them worked opposite shifts or were more a part of the tables and graphs ends of things than the chemical science. Still, he didn't like to think it was one of their own that was threatening Abby.

"No," Gibbs shook his head, "one of Metro's."

Somehow, that was a relief and he found himself relaxing slightly even as his hands clenched into fists.

"Okay," he said with false lightness in his voice, "he's dead then."

A flicker of something that was almost a smile crossed Gibbs' face as the doors opened and as he stepped through, Tony heard him answer.

"_Oh _yeah."

* * *

**A/N: **First of all, thanks so much for the reviews last chap, as always they make writing even more rewarding. I liked this line mostly because of what Gibbs says to the director after she asks for the reason. That she should ask herself, it implies a personal and possibly uncomfortable reason. But, as always, it's all just MHO. Also, I'm sure there will be those wondering why I stopped where I did, the first reason is because I've written a 'Gibbs confronts bad guy who's hurting his girl' before and we've seen it more than once on the show. No need to beat a dead horse. That...and I'm really excited about the next chapter (probably mostly this part of the reason) so I thought I could get away with stopping this here.

**Next Line**: "Ha! Nice try. I'm sitting on my MOAS."


	11. Tony's MOAS

**Title**: Tony's MOAS  
**Word Count: **3,173  
**Characters**: Tony, Kate  
**Genre**: General, Drama  
**Pairings**: None  
**Line**: "Oh you mean like a MOAS. Like a Mother of all Secrets."- "Yeah." - "Everyone has one. I'm not telling you mine. What's yours?" - "Ha! Nice try. I'm sitting on my MOAS." - Abby and Tony, Season 4 Episode 'Suspicion'

* * *

"Special Agent DiNozzo's desk…oh. Yeah, hi," Tony said distractedly, still running background on their main suspect, "...okay. Uh-huh...wait, wait. He _what?_"

At his exclamation Kate looked up from the personnel file spread out in front of her. Tony's brow was marred with a deep frown and his eyes narrowed in concentration as he listened to the voice on the other end of the line. She exchanged a quick glance with McGee before turning her attention back to her partner.

"Okay, uh…" Tony closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with a resigned sigh, "okay, yeah. I'll be there."

Tony hung up and, after taking a moment to gather his thoughts, which made Kate frown curiously, he stood from his seat. Crossing to stand in front of Gibbs' desk, he waited until he was noticed, all the while tugging at his suit jacket, adjusting its already perfect fit.

"Yeah?" Gibbs said, finally glancing up a few moments later.

"I," he cleared his throat and threw a barely veiled glance toward Kate before lowering his voice even more than it already was, "I gotta go pick up Ryan."

To Kate's surprise, Gibbs didn't ask who 'Ryan' was, which was _her_ first question. Nor where he had to be picked up or why, which didn't really matter to her but seemed like the kind of thing Gibbs would want to know.

Instead Gibbs' eyes narrowed slightly and his pen paused in flowing over the paper in front of him, "everything okay?"

Tony's head twitched slightly to the side as he contemplated this and he clenched his teeth before forcing himself to relax, "I'll let you know when I'm through with him."

Kate's confusion was only deepened when an almost understanding smile kicked up the corner of Gibb's mouth. He sighed and looked down at his desk briefly and then back up again, "I need you here, Tony."

Kate frowned. It wasn't an order, or a chastisement…more like an apology, if she were hard pressed to describe it. But that didn't seem very likely, so she tried to imagine what else it could be.

"I know, Boss."

A silent moment of conversation passed between them, the kind of exchange that usually left her baffled and annoyed, and Gibbs nodded.

"Take the time you need."

"Thanks Boss," Tony returned to his desk and grabbed his wallet and keys and then left without a word to anyone.

Kate watched him go and then turned to her remaining teammates.

"Who's Ryan?"

McGee just shrugged and Gibbs obviously did not intend to answer so, with nothing else to do, she returned to her opened personnel file, intending to grill Tony when he returned.

---

"But I don't want to!"

Kate lifted her head from her hands at the sound of a young, plaintive voice somewhere behind her. After Gibbs left to get coffee she'd hurriedly googled 'Ryan' and 'Anthony DiNozzo' but had yielded nothing but a strange video on you tube and a leaked arrest report. Not wanting to appear off-task when he returned, she'd been following up on leads to their _actual _case ever since, and had been on hold longer than she wanted to talk about.

"I don't really care. You got suspended for fighting, Ryan, you're not gonna go home and watch Pokémon."

She frowned when she heard her mysteriously missing partner's voice accompanying the first. She turned toward the elevator just in time to see Tony rounding the small wall next to her desk and, with her eyebrows halfway up her forehead, watched him escort a child of no more than eight with a hand on the back of his neck, toward his desk.

"I don't even like Pokémon anymore," the boy, a round faced, freckled kid with olive skin and dark eyes, crossed his arms stubbornly over his chest and glared at his shoes.

"Whatever," Tony sat the child in his own desk chair and quickly closed a few files and put them under his arm, then shoved the rest into one of his drawers and locked it. "You're gonna sit here and do your homework. Got it?"

"But Dad-"

"No buts, Ryan. Fighting is _not _okay," Tony took a deep breath and knelt down to be at eye-line with the obstinate and frustrated looking boy, "you know that."

"But _you_ fight the bad guys all the time. That's all I was doing."

"It's not the same Rye," he snapped, took exhausted and stressed to argue with the boy right then. He stood, "look, I'm not having this discussion right now," he pulled a pencil from the cup on his desk and handed it to Ryan, "Now get to work."

Reluctantly, Ryan took the pencil and scowled at it, "I hate homework," he grumbled, almost too low to be heard.

Tony took another deep breath, "life sucks," steadfastly avoiding the openly curious/shocked stares of his co-workers, Tony turned to leave the Unit, "I gotta use the head."

After he'd gone the boy rolled his eyes and pulled his colorful 'Transformers' backpack off and started pulling crumpled papers from inside and spreading them out on the desk. But instead of starting on them, he turned a bright and disturbingly familiar grin on Kate, who'd yet to blink.

"So, you work with my Dad?" he asked her and then turned to McGee, "which one of you is Probie?"

Finally Kate shut her mouth and, throwing a polite but fake smile at the boy she stood and crossed the bullpen to McGee, who looked as surprised as she.

"Did he just say, 'Dad'?" she whispered. McGee couldn't even respond, and they both looked over their shoulders at Ryan. He'd abandoned the seat his father had put him in and was standing in front of Kate's desk.

"Ohhh. You're Special Agent Todd," his green eyes lit up, "Dad says you know the President. Think you could get me his number? I got a couple suggestions for a new school policy 'bout lunch meat," he paused, "and girls."

"_Ryan_, what did I just say?"

McGee and Kate both looked up, not recognizing the sharpness in their co-worker's tone. The boy winced and scrambled back across the room to Tony's desk, pulling himself into the chair and snatching up his pencil to appear hard at work.

Kate tore her eyes away from a glaring Tony at the sound of McGee's quiet but sharp intake of breath.

"Oh my God," he whispered, staring wide-eyed.

"What?" she asked, glancing back over her shoulder.

McGee lifted his eyes to hers with a look that was part horror, part disbelief, "there's two of them."

---

"Did you know Tony had a son?" Kate demanded as soon as she entered the lab. Abby looked up from a beaker on the table and snatched her goggles off her head.

"Ryan's here?"

Before Kate could answer a little voice excitedly exclaimed, "Aunt Abby!"

They both turned to face the door and Abby quickly knelt down, opening her arms to welcome the flying leap of the boy rushing across the lab to meet her.

"Hi Rye!" she giggled at his exuberance, "your dad didn't tell me you were coming."

"That's 'cause I wasn't planning on it," Tony entered a few seconds behind his son, looking less than amused and turning a bit pink at the slightly less shocked, slightly more accusing glare Kate was telegraphing at him.

Abby's eyes widened with understanding and turned back to Ryan, "uh-oh. What'd you do?"

The boy looked pouty as he answered, "I got in a fight during music class."

"Ryan!" Abby frowned, "what were you…wait. Was it that kid Dillinger?"

He nodded emphatically and Abby stood to face Tony.

"In his defense, the kid totally deserved it."

"Abby!" he looked at her disbelievingly and sighed at the look of vindication on his son's face, "fighting is _never _okay," he reiterated, dipping his chin to punctuate the point.

"What if someone's picking on somebody else who doesn't deserve it?" Abby asked innocently.

Tony narrowed his eyes at her and she raised her hands in surrender, taking a literal and proverbial step back. He let his eyes fall closed and silently counted to ten, not at all surprised when he opened them again and caught Abby and his son making faces at him.

"Look, Abby, I came down here to ask if you could watch Ryan for a few minutes while I pick up a witness with McGee," he glanced down at the boy, who was glancing surreptitiously at Abby's short skirt, "hey! Eyes up."

Ryan's eyes instantly snapped to Tony's, his cheeks turning pink.

Tony sighed again and mumbled, "Although I'm beginning to second guess the whole idea now."

Abby was looking at Ryan with a raised eyebrow, but answered eagerly, "of _course _I'll watch him, Tony. Take as long as you like," she grasped the boy's hand and led him toward her office.

Once she was gone Kate turned, only to find Tony had already disappeared. The sound of the elevator ding spurred her into action.

"Tony," she rushed out of the lab and caught Tony's elbow just before he stepped onto the lift.

"Oh great, now I'll have to wait for the next one. Are you happy, Kate?" He cried, giving the doors a disgruntled look as they closed on him.

"Happy? Am I _happy_?" Kate repeated, almost too angry to think clearly, "no I'm not 'happy' DiNozzo. Because apparently _I'm _the only one who didn't know you had a son. I'm supposed to be your partner, Tony. How could you keep something like this from me?"

"That's not true," he said, his voice calm and deceptively uninterested. He pressed the call button for the elevator again to avoid looking at her, "McGee didn't know."

"Oh that's so touching," Kate said sarcastically, "I'm in the same category with McGee now."

"Hey," Tony said with feigned offense, "you be nice to Probie." He turned to enter the elevator as the doors opened.

"Tony-," Kate stuck her hand in to stop the doors from closing between them, "that's not what I-" she stopped suddenly, surprised by the seriousness in his eyes when he finally turned to face her. By how tired he looked. How haunted.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you, Kate. Okay?" he said quietly, his gaze traveling over her shoulder to rest on Ryan, "it's not really something I like to talk about."

She shook her head, not understanding. Her voice went soft with concern, "Tony, he's your son…why wouldn't you want to talk about him?"

Tony licked his lips and dropped his gaze. He reached out to pry Kate's hand off the door and jerked his chin back toward the lab.

"Ask Abby."

And with that, the doors shut between them.

---

"Abby," the doors swished open in front of Kate as she approached the office and Abby looked up. Upon seeing the look on her friend's face, she glanced at Ryan.

"And that is how you calculate bullet trajectories. You wanna give it a go?"

He nodded enthusiastically, "they let you play video games like this all day long, Aunt Abby? This job rocks!"

She merely smiled as she gave up her chair and ruffled the boy's hair as she crossed behind him, hooking her hand on Kate's and pulling her back out into the lab.

"Okay, so Tony told you?"

"Told me to ask you," Kate said, crossing her arms almost challengingly, "how could you not tell me Tony had a son."

"Kate, it's not that simple," Abby looked conflicted for a moment and, grabbing her arm again, pulled her friend until they were completely out of sight of her office, "Tony didn't even tell me."

"What? Then how-"

"It was an accident. We were out drinking one night a few years ago and we drank a little too much, which Tony never does. Never ever. So I knew something was up. I asked him about it and in a slurred and drunken state he…kind of revealed everything," she looked slightly pained at the memory and pressed her fingertips together in front of her.

"Well?" Kate asked, impatiently, "What is it?"

Abby sighed, "Tony wasn't always the 'love 'em and leave 'em' type. About nine years ago, in Pittsburg, he fell in love with a girl named Michelle. They dated and were supposed to get married but…" Abby bit her lip, "she got cold feet. She left him at the Altar."

Kate's eyes widened, "oh my God. Tony? Our DiNozzo…the guy who makes fart jokes and shows his chewed food to people and talks about movies like some people talk about the weather…married?"

Abby nodded, "yeah. Well, almost. See, when she didn't show, it totally broke his heart. He requested a transfer the next day which is when Boston enters the picture. But it turns out Michelle was pregnant at the time. She didn't even tell Tony about him until Ryan was almost two. Some kind of religious awakening, hell if I know," Abby sounded slightly bitter and she frowned, "She got a job in DC around the same time Tony moved to Baltimore. It was great because, after some…negotiation, he finally got to see his son regularly. When Gibbs offered the job at NCIS, Ryan was one of the reasons he took it."

Kate sighed, her heart heavy with everything she'd just learned and she turned to glance over her shoulder at Ryan, who was concentrated on something on the computer screen, his fingers poised over the arrow keys and space bar and his tongue sticking out of his mouth on one side.

"But, why all the secrecy," she turned back to Abby, "why wouldn't he tell me."

"Because he doesn't tell anyone, Kate," Abby said, earnestly, wanting her friend to understand, "Gibbs knows because he's Gibbs, I know because Tony can't control his mouth when he's wasted. He's just not in the habit of bringing it up. I mean think about it, Kate. The number of criminals who could go after Rye if they knew about him? Not to mention Daddy DiNozzo who made Tony's life a living hell growing up. He doesn't want that man anywhere near his son."

Kate's shoulders slumped, finally beginning to understand.

"Tony wants so badly to be a good father," Abby continued, quietly, "but he's been told his whole life that he's a screw-up. He's never had a good role model for how things should be between a father and son," she looked over at Ryan, "he doesn't even realize how good of a dad he already is."

---

Kate sat at her desk hours later, wishing she could wrangle her concentration, which had all but abandoned her since her discussion with Abby, even for a moment.

She pulled her eyes back to her desk when she found herself staring across the Unit at Tony. Again.

Trying to reconcile the man she knew yesterday, and the man she was seeing today, was taking some serious readjustment on her part. And finding a way not to be angry about it was damn near impossible.

Ryan was seated in the small space behind Tony's desk with a pair of headphones and a movie Tony had pulled from his bottom drawer, his head lolling off to one side as he fought a losing battle with sleep. Tony was bent over a pad of paper with his desk lamp on, writing furiously as he listened to someone on the phone.

Suddenly he hung up and stood to approach Gibbs' desk.

"I think I found a lead with Macklin's maid. She says she found receipts from a high end restaurant hidden in a desk drawer. I called the Manager. Says he knows Macklin, that he's a regular with a guy named Pavel Meirnachov who is, get this, on the FBI's watch list."

"Any movement?" Gibbs asked, pulling off his reading glasses.

"Nothing unusual. Doesn't look like he knows he's on anybody's radar," Tony looked up from his paper, "should I go pick him up?"

Gibbs reached up to take the paper from Tony's hands, "how long is your boy staying with you?"

Not at all phased by the seemingly abrupt change in topic, DiNozzo glanced over his shoulder, a wistful smiled crossed his features that Kate caught and she couldn't help the eyebrow that rose in reaction.

"Till Friday. His mom'll be back from her conference around 10."

Gibbs looked up at him, "you mean tomorrow?"

Tony frowned thoughtfully for a moment, and then his face fell. He'd wanted to spend more time with Ryan during the week while Michelle was out of town, maybe take him to the zoo or something, but the case had monopolized most of his time.

"Oh. Uh, yeah."

Gibbs sighed, looked down at the paper with Tony's hurried scrawl and then up at his Agent, "Meirnachov'll keep for a few more hours," he glanced over at Ryan, who was just barely awake enough to keep his head upright, "take your boy home, DiNozzo. Get some sleep."

Tony nodded and turned.

"Hey!"

The sharp call made him turn back immediately and Gibbs stood, planting his hands on the desktop and dipped his chin. Though the posture was intimidating, his voice was soft with understanding and Kate found the mix slightly disconcerting.

"I don't need to see you tomorrow."

Tony blinked at him and then glanced at Ryan, who was looking at him, bleary eyed. He nodded and then looked back at his boss.

"Thanks Gibbs."

Gibbs just nodded and both he and Kate watched silently as Tony quietly collected his son's things and slipped them into the backpack before slinging it over his shoulder.

"C'mon, buddy," he whispered, and hauled his limp body up into his arms with a grunt. He glanced at his team as he started to leave and nodded.

"See you all Monday."

Gibbs just nodded again and sat back down, Kate smiled and McGee waved.

Kate waited until the elevator doors closed before turning to Gibbs.

"Tony has a son." It wasn't said in incredulity or shock the way it had been earlier that day. More like a realization, an epiphany, as if she was suddenly seeing her partner for the first time.

Gibbs barely looked up, sparing a quick glance at the elevator, that fell on Kate before going back to his paperwork.

"Learn something new every day, eh Kate?"

* * *

**A/N: **Oh I loved that. I don't think I've ever read a fic where Tony was a father and I totally think he could do it. I think he'd subscribe to Gibbs' parenting style too, which I tried to convey with this. Total hardass, but totally loving being a father. Let me know if you liked this, if you thought it was IC or not, personally I think this is my favorite so far. I know there is a slight continuity issue since Kate only lasted through S2 and this quote is from S4, but I'm willing to overlook it if you are. I have some lines for Ziva but after the Season finale I don't really know what to make of her time on the show, so I'm going to leave them alone for a while and rotate through Tony, Abby and Gibbs (since I'm still very low on McGee centric lines).

**Next Line**: "I don't believe in Coincidences."


	12. Unwritten Laws

**Title**: Unwritten Laws  
**Word Count: **813  
**Characters**: Gibbs  
**Genre**: General  
**Pairings**: None  
**Line**: "I don't believe in coincidences." - Gibbs, First Appeared in Season One, 'My Other Left Foot'

* * *

"You almost done with that report, Probie?" A gruff voice asked.

"If by 'almost' you mean 'not even close' then, yeah. Almost done, Boss." Came the sarcastic response.

Gibbs looked up when a paper ball whizzed by his ear.

Mike's glare was like ice and he pointed one knobby finger in his direction just to be sure the Gunny understood he was serious, "the next one won't miss if you keep up with the smart ass comments," he narrowed his eyes, "and it won't be made of paper either."

Gibbs nodded smartly, swallowing a 'yessir' that threatened to cross his lips. Old habits tended to die hard, but his use of 'sir' seemed to be one Mike planned on breaking him of.

He returned his pen to his paper, but the words still wouldn't come. Just like they hadn't been coming for the past hour and now instead of overhead lights on the blank sheet, it was illuminated by a small desk lamp.

After watching the young agent glare at his paper for almost ten minutes without moving a muscle, a trick he had no doubt learned in the Corps, Mike sighed.

"What seems to be the problem, kid?" he asked, rubbing his face with both hands and mentally calculating how long it had been since he'd slept.

Gibbs looked up, "the second shooter."

"What about him?"

"He wasn't supposed to be there. Everything in the evidence, in the profile, the MO, it all pointed to a solo act. Bu it's a hell of a coincidence for a second guy to be there on the same day, at the same time that we were there to nab our dirt bag, and have it be completely unrelated."

Mike curled a finger at the other man, his expression unreadable. Obediently, Gibbs stood and crossed the space to stand before him.

"Boss?"

Mike reached up and smacked Gibbs lightly but firmly on the back of the head. "There are no such things as coincidences, Probie. Never forget that."

Gibbs straightened and rubbed the back of his close shaven head with a slight wince, "Right, sorry Boss." He said, and then started back across the room to sit down at his own desk.

"Hey," Mike barked.

Gibbs looked up and he raised his eyebrows, watching curiously as Mike gathered his coat and checked his pack of cigarettes for the road.

"If there's something bugging you about the 'second shooter' idea, then don't just write up a report and let it go. Keep investigating, Probie, until you're satisfied," he lifted his hand and lit a cigarette in his mouth and, after a brief puff, held it between two fingers and pointed at the younger agent, "until _you're _satisfied."

Gibbs furrowed his brow in thought and nodded again. Mike gave him a slight nod in return and headed for the elevator. He wasn't really surprised when he got to the doors and turned back to see the former Marine had pulled out the case file once more and was reaching for the telephone. He smiled and shook his head, the rush of nicotine doing much to improve his mood.

"And Gunny," he held back a smile when, once again, Gibbs looked up immediately and expectantly, "don't apologize. It's a sign of weakness."

The elevator doors closed between them and Gibbs nodded to himself.

"Yessir."

* * *

**A/N: **Wow. I bet you guys thought I had forgotten this fic! Not even close. I've just been pining and sweating and fretting and thinking over this chap. I stupidly put up a line I had absolutely NO ideas for. But finally this came to me. Now, for my next trick...

**Next Line**: "You're the man, Ducky. Why can't I find a guy like you?"


	13. Abby's Boys

**Title**: Abby's Boys  
**Word Count: **3, 150  
**Characters**: Abby  
**Genre**: General/friendship  
**Pairings**: None  
**Line**: "You're the Man, Ducky. Why can't I find a guy like you?" - Abby, Season Two, 'Heart Break'

* * *

"And _that _is how I know beyond a smidgen of a doubt, that there is life on other planets," Abby said triumphantly, crossing her arms over her chest with a self-satisfied smirk.

Dr. Ramirez, who looked like she was regretting her decision to take the overtime pay and do the annual psych evals for the last set of NCIS personnel yet to have them done, took a deep breath before responding.

"Yes, Abby, but I am talking about life here. On earth," she said, closing her eyes briefly and gathering her patience. At least she only had four more evals after this, "you never answered my question about men."

"That's because I don't answer irrelevant questions," she said, not missing a beat.

"On the contrary, Abby, I think it's very relevant," the woman sat forward, folding her hands on the conference room table, NCIS had loaned her the room for the day and, though the ambiance wasn't the most suited for what she was trying to do, the chairs were certainly comfortable, "your taste in men has the potential to be used against you in court, it's a testament to your judgment."

"Been there, beat that," Abby grumbled, frowning slightly and swiveling from side to side in her chair, avoiding the penetrating gaze of Dr. Ramirez.

The doctor adjusted her thick rectangular glasses, hiding sharp brown eyes and framed by dark hair, and adjusted her shortish khaki skirt, "actually the lawyer in the Spooner case never pursued that line of questioning."

"Therein lies my point."

"Yes, but she could have," Dr. Ramirez persisted, "or someone else might. Now, if we know the reason behind why you make some of the choices you do, maybe we could find a way to change it, er," she paused, seeing the dark look on Abby's face, "or at the very least, defend it."

Abby rolled her eyes, "you're not going to let this go, are you?" She sighed at the look of determination on the other woman's face and let her head drop back against the back of the chair, "fine, where do I start…"

"With your father."

Abby narrowed her eyes "is that some kind of voodoo psychiatric trick?"

The woman wasn't sure whether to laugh or be offended, "no. It's the beginning. The beginning is usually the best place to start."

"Oh," she sat back slightly from her aggressive position and reclined in the chair, "well there isn't much to tell. He walked out on us when I was eleven. Left me to fend for my deaf mother and baby brother while he went off to spend his golden years with some blonde Barbie doll half his age and with a quarter of the brain cells." Abby was surprised by the bitterness in her tone, even after all these years. Especially after all these years.

She hadn't expected that.

Of course, all that surprise turned to dread when she was the Doctor's pen start to dance across her paper again.

"Please continue Dr. Scuito."

Abby begrudgingly obeyed. "I wasn't allowed to date in high school and I was too busy working my butt off for a college scholarship to care. I dated a guy named Evan freshman year, he was cute, but shallow and didn't have a clue what forensic science was. He was much more interested in Beer Pong than me anyway so it didn't last long. After that I decided I wanted someone a little more mature," she stared at the ceiling as she rambled on, feeling the moments ticking by all too slowly.

"Try to just stick to what you liked or didn't' like about someone. We'll get into the reasons for why you sought them out later," Dr. Ramirez said, hardly looking up from the paper.

"What if the two aren't mutually exclusive?" Abby countered. She'd had just about enough of being ordered around.

The other woman thought a moment and then nodded, "very well. But try to keep it to a minimum."

Abby rolled her eyes, "anyway, that's when I met Prof. Windleman, my Biology teacher. He not only understood forensics, but could give me some pointers for helping me expand my thesis. We started working late a lot and I was always there during office hours and, well, you know how it goes," she shrugged, refusing to meet the doctor's gaze, "We dated for about six months. He was mature, attentive, kind, intelligent. I really liked him," she admitted quietly, then cleared her throat and added, "but one day I went to his office with a question and...I found him banging a senior on his big solid oak desk. Must've been some kind of fetish or something, hell if I know." she said flatly, though recalling the memory still hurt more than she would've liked to admit.

_Abby had never been punched in the gut before. Her brother was too much younger than her for them to ever have engaged in the kind of rough housing most siblings had, and she had always been one to lash out with her wit than her fists. But, as she stood frozen at the entrance to Fredrich's office, the distinct breathless, painful sensation spreading through her being seemed to be an appropriate comparison to a sucker punch. _

_Her eyes had never been wider, her mouth never so open. She wasn't even sure she comprehended what she was seeing. She didn't remember to blink, let alone breathe. She had no words. No thoughts. _

_But, as Fre…Professor Windleman, stepped away from his desk, allowing the other woman to sit up and arrange her clothing, she saw his mouth moving. It was then that she realized she couldn't hear over her heart pumping, throbbing in her ears. He tried to discreetly zip up his pants as he approached her, and if her body had been obeying any of her commands at the moment she would have jumped out of his grasp when he reached to push her back out the door and shut it behind them once they were in the hallway._

_She still didn't hear him speaking to her, but the sudden nausea she got at the sight of his face, the smell of his aftershave that she used to like so much, was overpowering. She turned and walked away before he'd even finished speaking. _

_It set her back almost an entire semester to unregister from his class._

"And how did that make you feel?" The doctor asked, trying to be gentle.

Abby gave her a scornful look, "you ever been cheated on, Dr. Ramirez?" she waited, watching as the other woman's expression faltered and her gaze fell, "yeah. Felt kinda like that." Abby took a deep breath and turned back to the ceiling, "after that I didn't date anyone seriously for a long time. Lots of partying. Lots of studying. Lots of friends who were boys, but not boyfriends. You know, typical college experience," she lifted her clunky boots off the ground and allowed herself to turn a full 360 in her chair.

"Then, in my last year, there was this guy," Abby's voice grew slightly dazed and she smiled at the ceiling, "Jim."

_He slinked in through the back door and fell into an empty seat, his leather jacket creaking loudly in the relative silence of the campus library. It was late and she had a paper due so she didn't pay much attention to the interruption. But when she looked up nearly two hours later to find the lights being dimmed for the night and the desk lamps over the tables being turned on, she was surprised to see him still there._

_She avoided eye contact as she gathered her things and made her way out, but she could feel his eyes on her skin as she did so. Outside the air was cool and summery, lightning bugs floated around and the stars warred with the dusk for dominance. She felt a presence beside her and turned. _

_He didn't say anything. His sharp blue eyes blazed against her green ones, and he smirked, but he didn't speak._

_"Can I help you?" She asked boldly, shifting her heavy load of books against her chest._

_He shook his head once and reached up to relieve her of the books. _

_"Hey I-" she stopped, noting the name of the book he'd been carrying as he set it on top of hers. She would have said he just picked it up to impress her, except that sounded far too vain and she happened to know there was all of five copies of that particular book on campus. And since she owned one, she also knew how expensive they were._

_ "You're studying physio-chemical mechanics?" She asked, wishing she sounded as irritated as she thought she ought to. The boy's eyes twinkled and he turned to walk away, directly toward a well-kept, solid-framed, sexy-as-hell, death-trap of a motorcycle. She stood speechless as she watched him go, unsure of what to do next. He turned back to look at her once he'd strapped the books onto the back of his bike. _

_"So, you coming?" _

"Jim was…something else." Abby admitted, blushing slightly but too far gone in her memory to realize she was divulging more than she intended, "I'd honestly never felt for anyone what I felt for him." A smile wisped across her lips and she looked down at her skirt, fingering the dark fabric nostalgically, "he convinced me black was my color."

Dr. Ramirez realized with a start and a flush of embarrassment that she'd gotten so caught up in listening that she'd forgotten to make notes and quickly scribbled a few sentences.

"And what happened between the two of you?"

The expression on Abby's face changed so quickly it was startling and suddenly she was the closed off, feisty scientist the doctor had been talking to ten minutes ago, all traces of the love struck college coed forgotten.

"He was killed in a motorcycle accident eleven months later," she swallowed and blinked away the memory of the phone call she'd gotten in her dorm that rainy December afternoon, "When I showed up with a gown at Commencement that I'd died black the dean wouldn't let me in and they had to mail my diploma home," she shrugged, "I've been wearing black ever since."

The Doctor made a few more notes, but Abby had stopped noticing.

"After that I dated a few guys, but nothing serious. Billy Bob was the only one who lasted, but that kind of went out the window when he almost ran me over with my Harley in his living room." At the doctor's raised eyebrow she shrugged, "apparently I said some stupid stuff the night before when I was close to passing out on the floor and Billy Bob in his bloodshot and alcohol induced stupor, took them a little too seriously."

"And this seemed like a healthy relationship to you, Dr. Scuito?"

"Obviously not," Abby gave her an appalled look, "he tried to kill me!"

"Then why were you dating him?" She asked, seemingly genuinely interested.

"He had a great Gardenia."

Ramirez tilted her head, "I'm sorry?"

"You know. A flower?"

Dr. Ramirez did know…she just didn't understand. Unfortunately, Abby had already moved on.

"After that was Andrei, Thorn, Dale and Patrick, but they only lasted for a few weeks or a few months in Dale's case. Andrei joined the priesthood, Thorn started a rock-band and fell off the face of the earth, Dale's parents didn't approve of me and I didn't approve of his lack of balls," she waited while Dr. Ramirez tried not to choke on her water, "and Patrick…actually, I don't remember what happened with Patrick."

Abby rolled her shoulders and stood, tired of sitting and spinning. She went to pour herself some water. "I met Michael in a cemetery," she said nonchalantly, noticing and subsequently ignoring the look of surprise that crossed the Doctor's face. She sipped the water and then made a face. Lukewarm. Yuck. "We dated for almost a year before he went completely psycho and started stalking me."

"I'm sorry," Ramirez interrupted, "did you say you met him in a cemetery?"

"Yeah, we were at a party," she tilted her head, "wouldn't you be pissed if you were dead, or undead, and no one ever invited you to a party?" She fought to keep a straight face at the disbelieving expression on Ramirez' face and thought perhaps she shouldn't give the woman in charge of her _psych_ eval such a hard time.

"I'm kidding." She said, giving her a serious expression, "it's just a cool place to have a party after dark." Abby shrugged, "I guess I did get a creepy vibe from him…but he had nice eyes," she shrugged again and felt her cheeks start to flush at the admission, "anyway, that obviously didn't last and he's doing a nickel at whatever hell-hole Gibbs saw fit to throw him into."

Abby's mood had darkened considerably while talking about Michael and her words tapered off into silence with her last sentence. Ramirez waited a moment for her to continue, but when she didn't she glanced down at her notes.

"Tell me about Marty." She prompted.

Abby's head snapped to her, "How do you know about Marty?"

Ramirez merely arched an eyebrow and Abby sighed long-sufferingly.

"Not much to tell. We were perfect for each other, or so I thought, but he didn't. So it ended."

The doctor waited, "that's all?"

"What else would there be?"

"Well, why did you seek him out?"

Abby shrugged one shoulder, "same reason I always do I guess. Smart. Sweet. Funny. Treated me decent. Same reason anybody goes for a guy."

"And there was nothing…unusual about your relationship?" the doctor fished for more information.

Abby narrowed her eyes, "I'm not sure what you're getting at doctor."

She sighed, "There was a significant height difference between yourself and Mr. Pearson, was there not?"

"Yes." Abby said simply.

The doctor waited and then sighed, "Alright," she resigned and then flipped a page in her file, "you neglected to mention the romantic relationship you had with one of your coworkers. Mr. McGee."

"_Special Agent_ McGee," Abby corrected hotly, still a bit miffed by the comments the Doctor had made about Marty, "there's not much to say. We dated. We broke up. That's it."

"Yes, but what was the cause? _Why _did you date McGee? And why did you break up with him?"

"What makes you think I broke up with him?"

"Dr. Scuito-"

"I'm serious. I didn't tell anybody that."

"You just did."

Abby opened her mouth to continue and then shut it again. She crossed her arms over her chest and turned away, "fine. Whatever. So I broke up with him, so what? Ok, McGee was - is - a nice guy, a decent guy. He didn't…stare at my tattoos or…tell me to shut up when I was rambling. He liked me for me. And I liked him."

"What changed?" Ramirez asked innocently.

"Nothing," she answered quickly, then added much slower, "everything. We just…McGee, is great he's just…not what I want," she finished slowly.

"But you don't want anyone else to have him either," Ramirez said, reading between the lines. Abby refused to answer, so she tried again, "what _do _you want, Abby?"

She stiffened at the use of her given name and shifted in her chair. "When I find it, I'll know."

The doctor sat back and took a deep breath. This young woman was different from most she evaluated, and very different from what she'd expected to find at NCIS. Black garb, pigtails and tattoos aside, she was a veritable fountain of psychiatric contradictions. She wondered if the rest of her interviews would be as interesting as this. "Tell me about the men in your life now," she said calmly.

"I'm not dating anyone right now."

"You misunderstand. I mean the team."

"Oh," Abby sat forward, this would be easy, "well, there's Gibbs. I've known him…god, forever I guess. He's all gruff and grumpy and mean on the outside but I know better. He's just a teddy bear who likes answers and gets me Caf-pow! when I give them to him," she drummed her fingers on the table absently.

"Tony's like a big brother who never really grew up. He pretends to be this frat boy idiot so nobody will think he sees them but…he sees everything," she nodded, almost forgetting she was in the room with another person, "I see him too. And McGee, he's grown up a lot. He's one of us now. And Ducky is great for a hug or a really good piece of advice, even when you don't know you need it, and Jimmy is so eager to please, you gotta love him."

She finished and didn't even realize the huge grin she felt in her heart had spread across her face. She stopped talking and looked at Ramirez, realizing the woman had not taken a note in several minutes. "Well? Am I insane?"

The woman's mouth quirked slightly and she sat forward, "your sanity is not in question here, Dr. Scuito. Your ability to continue doing your job, is. And I believe you can. Thank you for your time, you may send the next person in."

Abby practically leapt from her chair and ran to the door, but stopped when her hand touched the doorknob, "what about why I choose the guys I choose? Can't they still use that against me in court?" She asked wanting to know she hadn't put herself through all of that for nothing.

Dr. Ramirez had replaced her reading glasses on her elegant nose, but pulled them off again to look at Abby, "I won't lie to you, it may still come up. Your choices have been…unorthodox to say the least," the expression on Abby's face made it seem as though she found that to be a compliment, "but I don't believe it will stand up. You were clearly looking for something. Something your father took from you." Abby stiffened but stayed quiet, "something I think…perhaps you have found." She put her glasses back on indicating the session was truly and completely over and Abby turned and opened the door, mulling over what she could have meant.

It wasn't until she stepped out into the hall outside the conference room and looked across the bull pen and saw McGee, Tony and Ziva all standing and shouting ideas at one another across their unit, Gibbs in the midst of it all, stoic, listening and amused, that she realized what the Doctor had meant.

"You're up Tony." She said, approaching the quartet with the usual bounce of her step somewhat lacking.

Tony almost visibly paled. He looked desperately at Gibbs, "Boss, do I have to?"

"If you want to keep your badge, you do," Gibbs returned evenly, his eyes locked on Abby, studying her.

"Don't worry, it's not so bad," she lied. No reason for him to worry about something he could do nothing about, and snatched him up into a hug as he walked by.

Gibbs then watched as Abby approached first McGee, then Ziva, and hugged them both firmly, before turning toward him as well. He thought he saw her eyes well up slightly as she stood in front of him, pursing her lips between her teeth.

"Thanks Gibbs," she whispered, and suddenly stepped into him, wrapping her arms around him tightly so that he was forced to do the same.

"For what, Abbs?" He asked, not pulling away because she hadn't yet. Abby's arms tightened and she closed her eyes.

She took a shaky breath and whispered only loud enough for Gibbs to hear, "for being everything I've been looking for."

* * *

**A/N: **Wow, was that ever long! Phew. Glad that's over. I mean, I love Abby, but Dang! lol. I also love _so much_ receiving everyone's reviews, so please keep em coming!

**Next Line**: "Can I work alone now?"


	14. Traitor

**Title**: Traitor  
**Word Count: **1,182  
**Characters**: Abby, Gibbs  
**Genre**: General/friendship  
**Pairings**: None  
**Line**: "Can I work alone now?" - Abby, Season Three, 'Frame-Up'

* * *

Gibbs was always the last to leave. Especially after a day like today. Today one of their own had almost gone to jail for murder and another had been revealed as a traitor. A psychotic murderer. Granted, Chip was never really a part of the team, but he had been on the payroll. And he had been around for a few months working closely with all of them. With Abby.

Abby.

Gibbs paused in packing up his things and thought a moment. He hadn't seen Abby since Chip was arrested and she always said something to him before she left. With that thought he left his things on his desk and strode purposefully toward the rear elevator.

When the doors opened on the basement level he hesitated before stepping out and tilted his head to one side. The music was there, but mellow and quiet instead of loud and obnoxious. Between that and the overwhelming smell of disinfectant, Gibbs exceptionally sensitive gut was set on edge.

He entered slowly. Cautiously.

"Abby?" he asked, looking around. He could see her coat and purse still hanging on the hook beside her desk and somewhere in the room he heard the distinct sound of scrubbing, but he didn't see the young forensic scientist anywhere. "You in here?"

Suddenly Abby's visage popped up from behind her work table in the front room.

"Gibbs, you're still here," she said, her cheeks flushed slightly, as if she'd been caught red handed.

"Yeah, so are you Abbs," Gibbs pointed out, standing still, arms relaxed at his sides a few feet inside the door.

She shrugged and moved on to the large digital scanner behind her against the wall, spraying a healthy amount of glass cleaner on the scanner itself and rubbing a damp rag along all the panels and buttons.

"Yeah," she said, nonchalantly hiding her face from his view, "just cleaning up a bit."

"You fire your janitor, Abby?" Gibbs asked, as close to joking as he ever was.

Abby didn't turn around, and her voice held none of his false cheer. "No. My assistant."

Gibbs eyes fell to the floor where Abby had been scrubbing when he walked in. The same spot where Chip had lay three hours ago wearing a duct tape gag and covered in spilled Caf-Pow!.

"Abby," he began, in a coaxing tone he used out of habit. He was used to having to persuade information out of DiNozzo or glare it out of Ziva, and forgot momentarily that Abby was in the habit of confiding in him.

"No Gibbs, you can't do it," she didn't look up from the counter she was now scrubbing, lifting stacks of paper and swiping the rag across computer keyboards, "you can't convince me this wasn't my fault."

Gibbs remained stationary as she flew around the room, cleaning and scrubbing anything she could reach, all the while avoiding his gaze and talking nonstop, "Tony almost went to jail. Actually, he did go to jail. And it was my fault. I wasn't good enough. And I allowed someone else…an incompetent, maniacal, grudge-holding, hitler-stache wearing, bald, wanna-be forensic scientist…to beat me at my own game. To shake my unshakable belief in science. To shake Tony's unshakable confidence."

She stopped moving and dropped her head with her back to him, "how can I ever forgive myself for that?" It came out in a whisper but Gibbs' sharp hearing easily picked it up and he took a deep breath, crossing the room to her and touching her shoulder, turning her around to look at him.

"Abby it wasn't-"

"Yes it _was_, Gibbs," she insisted, pulling away from him. She threw the dirty rag into a bucket on the floor with such force it would have made Tony regret that she never played the annual baseball game between NCIS and the FBI. She turned around to face him again, gesturing wildly to illustrate her point.

"How could I not see it, Gibbs? I was with him every day for three months!" she shook her head in dismay, "three months I worked side-by-side with that double-crossing, no-good, scheming weasel and I never thought anything was wrong. Not even a blip on the Hinkymeter."

"I didn't see it either Abbs," he tried, but Abby was not hearing it.

"That's probably my fault too," she exclaimed, clearly distraught, now pacing and emphasizing some of her words with signs unconsciously, "my horrible guy-dar ruined your ability to hear your gut. I was a jamming signal, Gibbs!"

He walked up behind her again, this time taking both of her shoulders and when he turned her he didn't give her a chance to pull away. Abby didn't try to. She melted into his chest, wrapping her arms around him with force that he mirrored with his own.

"He was in my lab, Gibbs." She said, her voice quiet and small.

He pursed his lips and squeezed her once. Chip had fooled them all, but he knew it would be worst on Abby. She did not enjoy being lied to and she didn't give her trust as easily as everyone seemed to think. Maybe she'd never trusted Chip, he knew he hadn't, but he _had _been there. He _had _worked with them. Gibbs had allowed him to infiltrate their team because the Director had said so. The guilt he felt over that decision would keep him awake for many productive nights on his boat to come and it was not a mistake he would soon be repeating.

"And he sent Tony to jail."

"He's out now, Abbs," he said, his lips brushing against her bangs, "and it wasn't your fault," he added, knowing what her next line would be.

Abby didn't respond, and she kept her face looking down lest Gibbs see the disbelief in her eyes.

He didn't need to see it.

"C'mon," he pulled away enough to allow her to walk and lead her back to her office to collect her things and help her shut down for the night. He gestured toward her bucket of cleaning supplies, "I'll help you with this tomorrow."

Abby reached for her coat and turned off her music, "Gibbs you don't have to-"

"Abby."

She turned to look at him and met his raised, warning eyebrow with a small, almost shy, smile.

"I mean, that would be really nice, Gibbs."

He nodded minutely and draped his arm across her shoulders again as they walked side by side out of the lab, flipping off lights and machines as they went.

"Maybe I should get him flowers," Abby said when they were waiting for the elevator outside the lab.

Gibbs glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and found Abby giving the silver doors a thoughtful look.

"What kind of flowers do you think he likes?" She asked.

Gibbs was hoping that was a rhetorical question, but realized it wasn't when she turned to look at him, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

"What?" He said in a tone that indicated he neither knew, nor cared what kind of flowers his Senior Field Agent preferred.

Abby stepped into the elevator with him and gave an extravagant roll of her eyes.

"Really Gibbs, I thought you were more secure in your masculinity than that," she said nonchalantly, missing or ignoring the look Gibbs' shot her as her eyes widened, an idea suddenly occurring to her, "do you think they have 'Sorry I almost got you sent to Prison' cards at the flower shop?"

Gibbs just smiled and shook his head and pushed the button for the second floor.

* * *

**A/N: **Frame-Up is one of my top five fave epis, but the ending always felt slighted to me, I guess this is more of a tag than a BTL but...who cares? As long as everyone enjoyed it I'm happy! I wasn't actually expecting to do a series of Psych-evals when I wrote the last chap, but that seems to be what people want and it sounds fun so, I'm gonna go ahead and do it, m'kay? Up next is your fave manchild and mine, Very Special Agent Tony DiNozzo. Also, I know I heard this line, can anyone confirm that it was in S6 episode 'Knockout'? Thanks!

**Next Line**: "DiNozzo men don't cry."


	15. Weakness

**Title**: Weakness  
**Word Count:** 963  
**Characters**: Tony  
**Genre**: Hurt Comfort/Angst  
**Pairings**: None  
**Line**: "DiNozzo men don't cry." - Tony, Season 6 Episode 'Knockout'

When Tony emerged from the rear conference room after his psych eval Ziva was in the head, Gibbs was getting coffee and McGee was working through his 'first time to the principals' office' complex because he knew it was his turn next. He didn't notice the dark shadows in Tony's eyes or the way his voice dropped off at the end of sentences as if he wasn't hearing himself speak.

"Great. I'm horrible at tests," McGee muttered, eying the door to the conference room suspiciously before pushing himself up out of his chair, "well, wish me luck."

Tony didn't.

He passed Ziva on his way to the elevator, coat in hand, eyes cast toward the floor, and muttered that he was taking an early lunch and to let Gibbs know he'd be back in about an hour.

"Tony, are you alright?" Ziva furrowed her brow, pausing on her way back to the Unit.

"Fine Ziva," Tony said, his tone brisk as he entered the elevator, "just tell Gibbs, would ya'?"

The elevator doors closed between them none-too-soon and Tony waited a moment before flipping the switch to bring his short ride to a screeching hault.

With a centering breath, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to sag back against the wall of the elevator to enjoy a few moments of blissful silence amidst the whirlwind of thoughts in his head when...

"_I can't believe you let her get to you DiNozzo." _

The achingly familiar voice taunted him. He caught his breath but refused to turn his head, instead remaining steadfastly facing the crack between the two elevator doors in front of him. He knew if he turned his head to the side, even a little bit, he would see her, and it would all be too much.

And being found a sniveling, broken mess on the floor of the lift was not exactly at the top of his list of things to do that day.

"_A psychiatrist? Don't try and tell me she's the first one of those you've ever seen in your life. I did my research. Your dad was a real piece of work, you gonna try and tell me you've never been to a shrink before?"_

"Not crazy," he murmured, barely audible even to himself.

"_Says the man talking to a figment of his imagination,"_ her tone was laughing and it made his gut wrench with regret, but not so much as the calm, sincere tone that came after it did.

"_You shouldn't let her get to you Tony. You've got a job to do, and you're good at it. I still believe that."_

Tony grit his teeth and stepped forward, flipping the switch to jump start the elevator again.

"The psychologist didn't get to me, Kate," he whispered as the doors opened on the ground floor, "you did."

---

He wasn't hungry, so he didn't feel the need to eat, despite the cover story he'd left with Ziva for Gibbs.

Instead he crossed the front lawn of NCIS and went to sit on a bench that faced the sprawling Navy Courtyard on the other side of the drive. Cool Autumn air whipped at his cheeks and he flipped up the collar on his jacket as he sat down on a bench, facing out over the vast park-like area peppered with trees sporting their Autumn reds and yellows and swaying in the wind.

"_Cold, DiNozzo?" _

His eyes slid to the side and he hesitated before accepting the proffered paper mug off coffee, setting forward so his elbows rested on his knees.

"Thanks," He sipped slowly, relishing in the feeling of the liquid warming him from the inside out, "how come you never brought me coffee when you were alive?"

He turned to his right and caught a small, secretive smile cross the woman's lips before she hid it behind a sip of her own cup.

"Your hair grew," Tony observed, his eyes taking in the sight of long, luxurious red locks unfurling across her shoulders.

She turned to him this time, the amusement written plainly in her eyes_, "maybe you just liked it better long."_

Tony nodded, "maybe I did."

He turned back to look at his cup, momentarily wondering why the thin paper casing was no longer keeping his fingers warm.

"_I've never blamed you, you know." _

He inhaled sharply and swallowed hard, but all he could do was nod. Suddenly his icy fingers were covered with a small, warm hand and the paper cup disappeared. He fought hard against blurry vision and tried not to move.

"_And you shouldn't either," _she told him softly, her voice being overrun by the shifting of dry leaves around their feet._  
_

Again, all he could do was nod, not even having the courage to look up and see her face. By the time he did her image was replaced with another, this one equally familiar.

This one concrete. Real.

And how long had he been sitting there anyway?

"Long enough to know your hands are cold." Gibbs sipped his coffee, never looking over at his Agent. His clear blue eyes stared straight ahead as he shoved a matching steaming cup into Tony's hands.

"Who were you talking to?"

Tony paused, unsure if he should answer honestly. But then, with Gibbs, there was really no other option.

"Jenny."

Gibbs took another sip and nodded, much to Tony's surprise.

"You ever…do that? Talk to her?" He asked, and he didn't know why he was suddenly shaking. Why how Gibbs answered suddenly mattered to him more than anything in the world.

Maybe because the psychologist really _had _gotten to him. Maybe because he really _did _blame himself for Jenny's death, even after all these years. Maybe because he just needed to know, once and for all, that he wasn't crazy. And Gibbs' answer could tell him that better than any psych eval ever could.

Gibbs took a long swallow and looked out over the park before them, "well," he began, his tone honest and uncharacteristcally patient, "that's what the boat's for, DiNozzo."

Tony wasn't ready for the wave of releif that hit him and the air he expelled almost felt as if it had been knocked out. He turned to follow Gibbs' gaze out over the landscape. His chest didn't really feel any lighter than it had before, but he could already feel his head clearing, some of those whirwind thoughts dying down for the time being. At least until his next eval.

His eyes landed on the large Maple tree at his eleven o'clock, leaves ablaze in orange and yellow on the branches and covering the ground. And there, standing in the middle of it all just to the right of the trunk, staring right back at him, was the blonde visage of Paula Cassidy. As young and gorgeous as she ever was giving him that partially amused, partially disdainful smile that only she could manage.

Tony blinked hard.

He would not cry.

Because no matter what his father was inclined to say after a long day and a few drinks, he was a DiNozzo.

And DiNozzo's don't cry.

Period.

"The boat," Tony nodded, taking another deep, steadying breath, "gotta get me one of those."

**A/N**: So this one is kind of short. I decided to go a slightly different route with Tony's eval. I wanted to deal more with the aftermath than the actual event, and since there's such a plethora of things they could have talked about in his eval - daddy issues, maturity issues, near-death-experiences (poor Tony's been through some rough times!) - I decided to focus on what could have possibly been discussed and what might have been the effect on Tony with all those things being dragged to the surface. So, did you like?  
**Next Line**: "I killed a cop, Boss."


	16. I Got Your Back

**Title**: I Got Your Back  
**Word Count:** 1,368  
**Characters**: McGee, with a little Tony and Gibbs  
**Genre**: Friendship/Angst  
**Pairings**: None  
**Line**: "I killed a cop, Boss." - McGee, Season 3 Episode 'Probie'

"Please state your name and title for the record." Dr. Ramirez said. She was trying to sound professional but an entire day full of NCIS Psych Evals had done nothing for her nerves, and if the previous two interviews were anything to go by, her day was only going to get longer.

"Timothy McGee, NCIS Field Agent," Tim said, swallowing hard and resisting the urge to loosen his tie. He was starting to feel warm and itchy. In his mind he knew 'Evaluation' and 'test' were not the same thing, but in his head they were far too similar.

And he knew that didn't make sense, which just made him more nervous.

"Agent McGee, are you alright?"

"Hm?" Tim cleared his dry throat, "uh, yeah, sure. I mean, yes. Why?"

Dr. Ramirez pulled her glasses down on her nose to get a closer look and then off her face completely, "this is a psych eval, Agent McGee. There are no right or wrong answers, only honestly. You don't need to be nervous."

Tim wasn't sure he agreed. He was pretty certain if he said he had thoughts of mass destruction and killing on a regular basis, which he didn't, _that _would be considered a wrong answer. But, he chose to keep these opinions to himself.

"I'm not nervous."

He could have sworn he saw the young woman smile and she sat back from the table, crossing her legs but not bothering to pull down her skirt when she did so.

Tim started to sweat harder.

"Um, uh, could you repeat the question?" He stuttered, dragging his eyes up to the window and trying to keep his thoughts on the straight and narrow.

Dr. Ramirez frowned, then, suddenly realizing the cause of his distraction, sat forward again and crossed her legs at the ankles.

"I didn't ask a question Agent McGee."

"No? Oh." Tim swallowed again, wondering what she could possibly be writing on her pad if she hadn't yet asked a question.

"Well, there's really only one thing I want to talk about during this session," she said finally, looking up at him, all business.

"Okay," he said hesitantly, trying to figure out a nice, psychology insignificant place to put his hands.

"Last spring you were involved in a fatal shooting during the protection detail of a high ranking military official," she said, and McGee marveled at the way she was able to condense one of the most traumatic events of his life down to a few sentences. "The fatality was one Undercover Detective John Benedict of the Metro DC Police Department, correct?"

"Yes, but it was never proved-," he said, his voice more even now, bordering on suspicious.

"You made the fatal shot, I know. But for some, especially in law enforcement, that doesn't matter," she looked up again and took off her glasses to focus more fully on McGee, "what I want to know is if that incident has adversely effected your working relationship with other law enforcement officers."

McGee frowned and dropped his gaze to the table.

_Tim McGee grasped the handles of the processing kits firmly and hauled them from the back of the truck, not even grunting at their weight. He'd been carrying them for nearly two years now, he'd grown used to them by now. _

_Ahead of him he could see Gibbs sipping coffee and crossing the yellow crime scene tape that sectioned off the alley between a hardware store and an Italian restaurant in Bethesda. Tony was on the phone with dispatch behind him so Tim set out toward the Crime Scene on his own._

_It was his first investigation since the shooting and he was ready to be back to his routine. He was doing better now, only ever thought of the shooting at night at home alone, but that didn't happen often, the team made sure of that. Ziva invited him over for dinner often and Abby came over to watch old vampire movies nearly every night. Tony and Gibbs kept him busy during the day, keeping things normal with lots of snapped orders and new inventive nicknames. _

_Still, the shadow was there, the possibility of taking human life was now hanging over his shoulder all the time but he was getting better at, not ignoring it, but dealing with it. _

_He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't notice the two Metro Cops who'd found the body standing beside their cruiser outside the crime scene._

_"Um, excuse me," he said distractedly, and motioned toward the cases in his hand and then the crime tape, "little help?"_

_The first cop, a guy about his height and weight, with dark hair and deep curmudgeonly features, "sure," he said, his voice like gravel under tires, "anything for an NCIS agent."_

_His companion, a thin guy with blonde hair and sharp eyes smiled and shook his head, leaning casually against the car. Neither moved toward the yellow tape._

_McGee frowned, "listen, these are heavy, would you just lift the tape so I can do my job?" he snapped, still only running on a few hours of sleep a night._

_"Whoa there Federal boy," the thin guy said mockingly, standing to his full height, "don't go getting upset now. Wouldn't want to end up like Benedict did, would we Charlie?"_

_McGee's stomach fell, "what'd you say?"_

_"You heard him," the faux friendliness fell away like a curtain and the first officer scowled at him, "lift your own damn tape."_

_McGee just stared at him, hardly able to believe what he was hearing. _

_"Oh, you look upset. What are you gonna do? Shoot me?" _

_His thin partner stood up next to his him, "that's what you do, isn't it? Kill cops? You know, we may not be big fancy Special Agents but we get dirt bags off the street same as you."_

_McGee felt his mouth going dry, "I-I didn't-"_

_"Probie," Tony's voice cut in sharply and he looked over to see him holding the tape up and motioning for Tim to cross under, "Gibbs doesn't like to be kept waiting."_

_McGee took a deep breath, and after glancing quickly at the Metro Cops, ducked under the tape to approach the scene. _

_Tony waited until he thought McGee was out of earshot and turned back to the Uniforms. _

_"Had enough?" he asked quietly, his face a bit red from the exertion of keeping his voice low and his hands occupied. _

_"Enough what _Special Agent_?" _

_"Yeah, we were just talking to the little 'probie'."_

_"Hey," Tony said sharply, glaring at the cops, "you don't call him that. And maybe instead of giving us a hard time you should worry about making sure you've got your facts straight." He turned to enter the crime scene and didn't look back._

_"What do you mean by that?" They called after him. _

_Tony didn't respond as he approached Gibbs, pointedly ignoring McGee's frequent, questioning glances toward him._

_"Dispatch says the 911 call went out from this sailor's cell phone at 4am this morning but he hung up before they could get a trace or a call back number," he handed his notes over to Gibbs, finally lifting his eyes briefly to connect with McGee's and gave him a short nod. _

_"Okay, start sketching, Ducky wants this body out of here asap," Gibbs said, "McGee, take pictures and bag and tag everything."_

_"On it, Boss." McGee said, sounding almost thankful for the arguably large task, considering the body was laying in a pile of garbage which Gibbs had just ordered him to bag and tag every piece of. But the monotony of picking up individual pieces of evidence, writing a description and signing each piece, actually served to calm his frayed nerves and buzzing mind. _

_But not so much that he didn't notice Gibbs walk away from the scene and make a beeline for the Metro Cops who, for all their protestations of 'getting dirtbags off the street' were still hanging around watching them work the scene. _

_He never knew what Gibbs said, but the cops left soon after that and he never had a problem with Metro PD again. In the meantime, his wounds had been left to heal without having salt ground into them at every turn, and for that, he could never thank Gibbs and Tony enough.  
_

"No ma'am," Tim said finally, after several minutes of silence. Dr. Ramirez' eyebrows went up so he elaborated, "not with the ones that matter."

**A/N**: This one was pretty difficult for me, as you can tell by the obcene amount of time it took me to output it, because I find McGee difficult to do, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway, let me know!  
**Next Line**: "In my world you grow up fast."


	17. Daddy's Little Girl

**Title**: Daddy's Little Girl  
**Word Count:** 944  
**Characters**: McGee, with a little Tony and Gibbs  
**Genre**: Friendship/Hurt/Comfort  
**Pairings**: Gibbs/Ziva - father/daughter  
**Line**: "In my world you, grow up. Fast. You have no choice." - Ziva, Season 6 Episode 'Road Kill'

"Gibbs," Ziva approached Gibbs in the lobby of NCIS, dashing from the stairs just as he exited the elevator on a coffee/Caf Pow! run.

"Ziva?" he narrowed his eyes, wondering what had impulse her to hurry down the stairs after him.

"Do I really have to do this, Gibbs?"

"Do what?"

Ziva took a deep breath, "this this…psych eval," she said the word as if it made her a little bit nauseous, "I had one after you brought me back from Africa and another as part of standard initiation procedure to NCIS," she threw her hands in the air, "this will be the third one this year."

"Should probably tell you something, Ziver," he said, as close to joking as he ever came, and turned to continue on his way out of the building.

"Gibbs, please," she said, jumping in front of him, "I find the probing questions that seem to come standard in these sessions…unpleasant." She dropped her eyes to the floor, somewhat ashamed of the admission. Gibbs stood and stared at her for a moment.

"Don't we all," he said quietly, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead just before he side-stepped her to continue on his way.

Ziva sighed and resignedly turned to push the button on the wall and wait for the elevator.

---

Gibbs arrived back at NCIS almost half an hour later and was surprised when he spied the door to the conference room at the end of the hall open and Tony and Ziva's desks empty.

"McGee," he barked, the young agent's head snapping up to look at him.

"Boss?"

"Where is everybody?" he said, looking pointedly at the empty spaces.

"Um, Tony seemed a little off so Abby took him out to lunch and Ziva…actually I don't know where Ziva is." McGee frowned, "I know she's out of her eval, I saw her get on the elevator a couple minutes ago."

Gibbs nodded and headed toward the lift.

---

Abby's lab was always open, and if she was there, there was always music on.

Today the lab was quiet. Gibbs stepped off the elevator and walked a few feet into the lab, looking for any signs of life.

He saw it.

On a lab stool in the middle of the floor, shifting from side to side slowly and her eyes glued to the floor, sat a hunched over Ziva. She looked more like a little girl the day her father deployed than a Mossad officer turned NCIS agent.

"Ziva?"

She glanced up at him but didn't stop her repetitive movements.

"Abby's not here." She informed him in monotone.

"I know," he narrowed his eyes slightly, the way he often did when trying to figure something out, "How'd it go?"

This made her stop and she stared at the floor blankly for several moments. "It was different than the other times."

"Different how?"

There was a pause before she spoke, "she asked me about you," she looked up at him with dark, guarded eyes.

"Me," he straightened.

She nodded and stood, moving about the lab slowly, examining machines and chemical labels, not really seeing anything.

"She wanted to know how I felt about the way you lead your team. About your relationship with each of us compared to Mossad," she paused, running a slender finger down the side of a glass beaker, "I can only assume she wanted to know where my subconscious loyalties lie.

Gibbs just narrowed his eyes a bit more. Considering.

She paused to stare at her warped reflection in a darkened computer monitor. "My sister Tali was killed by a Hamas suicide bombing," she paused, her voice breaking, "when she was sixteen."

Gibbs nodded, "I know," he said quietly.

"I had just turned eighteen," she continued, her back still to him, "my father," she swallowed hard and dropped her gaze, turning to wander along the walls of the lab again, "he called me into his office, out of training, and told me," she pause a moment, anger and hurt flaring up at the memory, "told me my younger sister was dead. He used…the same emotionless, professional words he would have delivered to any operative who had lost a partner. Said them as if she weren't my best friend…as if she wasn't just a child, just as I was still a child." She turned to bring her eyes up to him, "he never even looked at me."

Gibbs straightened under the intensity of her gaze.

"I told her that Gibbs, I've never told anyone that," she took a deep breath, swallowed hard again, and Gibbs found himself fighting not to move toward her, he wasn't used to seeing such raw vulnerability in Ziva, "and then I told her… I told her about that day in your basement. When I killed Ari. When I followed my father's orders to kill my brother," she paused to push away tears gathering in her eyes. To this day she didn't want to think about what she'd done, "When I was looking at him on the floor, and you walked past me…you squeezed my hand." She looked up at him, almost amazed, "you didn't know me, didn't know who I was or why I'd done it…but you comforted me." The tears won the battle and she dropped her chin to her chest.

"My loyalty is to you Gibbs," she mumbled, "only to you."

Gibbs took a step forward and she embraced him. He tucked her head up under his chin and began rubbing a small circle on her back.

Finally, after several minutes, a small, quiet whisper passed his lips.

"Thanks Ziver," he whispered, "and I'm sorry about Tali."

**A/N**:Phew! Glad Ziva's done! Only one eval left! I've actually wanted to do this concept for Ziva for a while, between the info about tali in Kill Ari2 and the line from this episode and everything we know about Ziva's father, i can only imagine he wasn't a very loving man growing up. Not that Gibbs is a bucket of rainbows and sunshine, but you know, at least he always lets you know where you stand, and that it MATTERS to him, good or bad. Oh, and speaking of Gibbs...  
**Next Line**: "Anyone ever tell you you're an insufferable bastard?"


End file.
